Life's Little Observations

I had my first foray into the business world when I was very young. Both Ralph and I were about 12 years old when we were approached about marketing a cleaning product. We were told that it was a way for us to make some good money over the summer. So we very enthusiastically learned about the product, watched product demonstrations and practiced our sales script.

It came time for us to begin our quest to become teenage business tycoons. Nervously, we knocked on our first door. Darn, someone was home because we could hear footsteps coming towards the door. Mrs. Anderson opened the door with her usual smile. “What can I do for you boys?” she asked.

We looked at each other almost speechless and I blurted out “can we demonstrate a product for you that will remove stains?” That wasn’t what I was supposed to say but it was all I could remember. It was a pretty weak start, but that was our first actual sales call.

She was the June Cleaver type, replete with the strand of pearls around her neck and a dress with a hemline that fell between the knee and the ankle. Her husband was more like Rosanne’s TV husband, Dan.

Mrs. Anderson invited us into the house and the four of us sat down in the living room. We hurriedly explained the benefits of the product as only two 12 year olds could. Ralph then asked if we could demonstrate the product and show how it removes stains. Mrs. Anderson was more than willing to give us a chance. Ralph asked for grape jelly. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a brand new jar of jelly. It was a jar that doubled as a water glass when the jelly is finished. This particular glass had pictures of the Flintstones.

Ralph, standing in the middle of the living room, opens the jar and dumps the entire contents of the jar right in the middle of the carpet. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mrs. Anderson’s face watching in shock, and Mr. Anderson sitting up on the edge of the sofa eyeballing the mound of jelly on his carpet. Ralph begins to scoop up most of the jelly with the jar. So far we’re looking good. Ralph’s hand is shaking as he begins to tell exactly what will happen when he applies the cleaning fluid as he continues to pick up more jelly.

He takes a flask out of his pocket and sprays the liquid on the purposely-created stain. Did I mention that this carpet was a newly installed beautiful white carpet? Out of his other pocket comes the bristle brush. He starts to scrub. Scrubs more. The pesky stain isn’t going away but begins to spread. I’m starting to sweat. The more he scrubs the larger the stain gets. After several minutes of scrubbing, the stain is now the size of a football and shows no signs of disappearing. I look at Mrs. Anderson. I look at Mr. Anderson. They look at each other.

Mr. Anderson stands up angrily, hikes his pants up and says almost at the top of his lungs, “boys….” That’s all we heard. He lunges at us. I shouted “Ralph, let’s go!” Luckily, Ralph and I were in between the unhappy couple and the door. The chase was on. Ralph was out the door first. I was almost in his back pocket. Mr. Anderson was out third, only he stopped to pick up a kitchen knife. He chased us for about two blocks until he finally gave up.

I still believe to this day that if Mr. Anderson had been more fleet afoot, Ralph and I would have been the stock in the soup of the Anderson’s evening meal.

Posted by Life's Little Observer

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Sara and I were having dinner at an exclusive Italian restaurant. We looked deep into each other’s eyes the entire time, from the first glass of wine through the scrumptious
cannoli. The flame from the candles danced in her eyes in the romantically lit room.

We discussed our future. We decided what our wedding would look like. We discussed what the rest of our family would look like. We discussed what type of home we would live in for all of our happy years.

Our wedding would be a carbon copy of the Princess Di wedding complete with the television coverage. We would have three children. The children would be spaced by two years. We agreed that the children would be two girls and a boy with the boy being the youngest. Each would have blond hair, blue eyes, and be very athletic with a bronze tan. We would live in a castle with 17 rooms, maids quarters, outdoor heated pool, tennis courts and beautiful botanical gardens in which we could take long walks.

As we were finishing our delectable desserts, I could only think of what was to come afterwards. Sara and I would compete as a team in the pairs bedroom gymnastics event at my place.

That’s when I got smacked. Not from Sara, but with the firm hand of reality. I was suddenly sitting at my breakfast table, alone, staring into my milk-soaked mini-wheats. There was no Sara, no kids, no home, no long walks, just fiber. At my age I guess it was just too good to be true.

So what could have happened to rush me back to reality?

Earlier that morning I was getting dressed for work and opened a new pair of underwear. As I was putting them on a tiny slip of paper fell to the floor. I picked it up and it said “Inspected by Sara.”

Sara, if you read this, please call me.

Posted by Life's Little Observer

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Useless, Pointless and Meaningless Disclaimer: This site collects absolutely NO personal data. In fact, we collect no data at all. However, if you have any data that you think is worthy of collecting, send me an email! No attorneys were hurt or consulted during the preparation of this disclaimer!

Useless, Pointless and Meaningless Disclaimer:

This site collects absolutely NO personal data. In fact, we collect no data at all. However, if you have any data that you think is worthy of collecting, send me an email!

No attorneys were hurt or consulted during the preparation of this disclaimer!