The doorbell rang just as I was at the foot of the stairs.
I could see the postman through the blurry glass panel on the door – and he could see me.
All fine except for one thing. I was just out of the shower and dressed only in (very skimpy) bra and knickers I had gone downstairs to get my hairbrush. To make matters worse I was road testing a new Clarins face mask for the Blog. So I wasn’t really in a fit state to be standing there with the door open signing his little electronic gizmo.
In a panic I ran into the sitting room calling out “Will you just leave it beside the door please!”
No answer. Instead he banged on the door. I virtually screamed at him this time “Will you just leave the parcel beside the door!”
I couldn’t find anything at all that might do as a dressing gown/ towel/ modesty preserver and I was damned if I was answering the door to him. What seemed like an eternity passed and just when I was beginning to feel as if he must have gone away…
He banged on the door again. Oh how I began to hate him.
You can imagine what I felt like screaming at him this time. Now I know he wanted me to sign for the parcel, but hammering on the door like that was just taking the piss.
The face mask was lovely by the way – I’ll give it full attention in another post.
I will never go downstairs again without a dressing gown. But I bet you’ve some good ‘caught unawares’ stories – tell all!