Years ago, as he did twice a
year for their Florida
migration, my father turned over my ailing mother’s care to me and hubby for
several days. She needed pain medication, so I took her shopping. Of course,
she got confused. I still have a huge bottle of naproxen sodium.
Oh, well. I’m blessed not to
need pain relief often.
And I screwed up, as well. Under
stress, I meant to purchase a ‘no soliciting’ sign and brought home a ‘no
trespassing’ notice instead.
My husband deemed the wording
a bit harsh at the time, so I should have exchanged it but never did. To honor
his wishes the thing got stored away.
Until recently.
Dealing with anxiety off and
on, I hate hearing the doorbell or someone knocking unless we’re expecting a
package or rare visitor. Yesterday evening we sat watching an episode of the
miniseries “Presidents at War” when persistent knocking sounded. I refused to
go to the door even though our television carries right through to the outside,
especially at the volumes my husband often chooses.
A few minutes after the
interloper gave up, I decided to step outside and found some guy wearing a
construction vest like I’d seen on another solicitor turned away (!) a few days
ago. Walking away from the house next door, he turned to my hail.
Anger emboldened, I shouted,
“Hey! Don’t you know the definition of ‘no trespassing’?”
“Knocking on a door isn’t
trespassing.”
I… begged to differ, you could say. He wasted no time heading the
other direction.
Here is what an online search
turned up:
tres·pass
[ˈtrespəs, ˈtresˌpas]
VERB
trespassing (present participle)
- enter
the owner's land or property without permission.
‘Nuff said. I’ve asked my
husband to use Amazon.com points and buy this rather attractive yard sign. I wish
it included the caveat “unless you are a child” but don’t expect this will stop
them, anyway.
Would you approach such an
unwelcoming door?
-