There are times when you want to surround yourself with people you trust. A team, a support system. My lawyer... my therapist... my dentist, dermatologist, hairdresser. So one afternoon, last November, a knock on the door brought two gentlemen into my personal network. The more outspoken of the two reminded me an awful lot of a younger, thinner Al Roker and smiled with such warmth and enthusism, it seemed like he had floated in with the Autumn sunshine.
"I'm your new milkman," he said.
The sound of which seemed to fill a need I hadn't known I'd had.
So not half an hour later and I was the owner of a shiny, silver Winder Farms cooler, and making note of his instruction. I was to place it on the front porch every Monday night, so they could fill it with eight bottles of farm fresh, hormone free milk, the thought of which filled me with idyllic excitement.
This was the first morning we walked out to find milk on our doorstep.
Who knew that the milkman could also bring chicken tamales. Y muy ricos tambien!
So buying hormone free milk is a bit more expensive than buying the store brand, but I have found, as the milkman suggested at his first visit, that I have saved money, not having to run to the store to buy milk. And the kids like the milk so much better than store bought, that they are willing to stick to the eight bottles per week. That means they have started to notice and regulate their own milk use (and abuse) in order to make it last through Monday morning. That's been a good thing.
Now we've begun to recognize the sound of the milk truck arriving around bedtime (ahem...) late bedtime on Monday night.
So what's happening here? This is the scene of my children stalking...maybe this is reverse-stalking, since their actually spying on him coming to our house...the milkman.
Now it's our weekly tradition to wait for the milk Monday night. I get lots of help when it's time to put it away.
This is comforting.
This week the cheesecake was on special. Ten dollars off! I can't wait to try it.