I tend to be in work all day on a Saturday so we carefully plan the shopping to arrive and for Carole to be in to deal with the delivery while I’m getting ready for work, or getting as much time in bed as is humanly possible before working until 11pm.
It’s a plan that has worked in the past. It’s a beautiful plan.
Okay, I think it’s worked for about a week.
And then it derailed entirely this morning.
I booked for a delivery between 9 and 10. A time when Carole would be available and I would be making my lunch and getting ready.
Prior to this, Carole went out to buy flowers for Mother’s Day and to have a run.
So obviously the bloomin’ shopping came early. Before the allotted slot. And while I was enjoying the loveliness of bed.
The driver rang at about half eight to say he’d be early. I didn’t answer it. But I did get up because even though we’d not answered to say we were available for an earlier delivery there was still every chance that the shop would turn up.
And also because Carole was currently running along a road in Huddersfield somewhere and not here to receive the delivery.
I looked around. Couldn’t see anything. Headed off to leisurely potter through making my lunch and things of that nature. Just with less sleep and lying down than I had originally planned.
Then a Sainsbury’s man was on the doorstep.
Not only was he early, he’d stealthed the entire delivery mission by parking at the end of the road and wheeling the baskets along the pavement on a trolley. Crafty little so-and-so. Ninja delivery skills.
The best bit of the whole affair was that as the van was leaving the street, Carole was just arriving home ready to take in the delivery at 9am.
With everything else that happened today, I realise that this was just the universe’s way of sending me a message. Just forewarning me that any plans that may have been put in place would crumble to dust within moments…