The day started out okay. Peep #1 informed me that I would have to blog on my own. She was gonna be busy. Fine by me. I write all my own stuff, anyway. All I really need for her to do is turn on the ol' computer and truth be told, I don't even need that. I just let her think I do. Boosts her confidence, you see. Lets her think she's needed and all. Lets her think she plays a part in my bloggin'.
A part other than, you know... doin' foolish stuff about which I can later blog.
Hmmm... Perhaps I do need the peep after all. MOUSES!
Anywho... The peep was gonna be busy Friday afternoon 'cause she had some Christmas stuff to do. She was gonna be makin' candy.
First on the list was fudge. I was hopin' it would be tuna flavoured but no such luck. The peep, bein' a peep, does not appreciate the good things in life. What a peep. Clearly lackin' in taste, if you ask me.
Of course, the only thing better than tuna fudge would be nip balls. I hopped up onto the kitchen counter to snatch a nip of the nip but alas, there was no nip to be found. And when I pointed out to the peep that nip balls would require nip, she completely ignored me. Can you believe it? MOUSES!
I was then unceremoniously dropped down onto the floor before I could get my paws on the butter and cream on the counter. Peeps can be so rude sometimes. I decided to head off into my office to work on my blog.
A little while later, the peep announced she had to go out. I waved her off sayin', "Not now, woman. I've got bloggin' to do!" I heard the door close behind her and the car engine start up. She was off to wherever she was goin', in the rain. Yup, it was rainin' outside. Actually, it was pourin'. Pretty icky weather, if you ask me.
As an afterthought, I did yell out to her to mind the rain on account of the wonky windshield wiper on the drivers' side of the car but my afterthought came after she had already left so it was too late for her to hear. MOUSES!
From what I've been told, this was when the excitement began.
As I was workin' away on my blog, Peep #1 was headin' down Bridge Street. Bridge Street is the street that crosses the river. It has a bridge. That's why it's called Bridge Street. Peeps 'round here are kind of literal 'bout stuff like that and chaos can occur when a town or village has more than one bridge. MOUSES!
Anywho... The peep was headin' into the village that houses our post office to pick up a parcel. She had tried to pick it up the day before but the place in the mall where parcels used to be delivered, was no longer offerin' that service. The peep knew 'bout this change but had forgotten.
Now it gets dark pretty early in December and on rainy days, it gets dark even earlier than early. So there she was, drivin' into the village in the pourin' rain and it was gettin' darker and darker by the minute.
The rain was comin' down in torrents and the windshield wipers were workin' up a frenzy but not doin' what they were supposed to be doin' properly on account of one of 'em bein' wonky. The peep was cursin' the peeps who had replaced the wonky wiper less than two weeks before 'cause after they had replaced it, it was wonkier than ever. Thing is, she hadn't yet had a chance to get back to 'em to have it fixed.
Crossin' the bridge that gives Bridge Street its name, she glanced at the river. It had turned into a lake. Oh yeah, I'm serious about that. Trees were up to their elbows in water. Trees that used to grow in a field were now standin' in the midst of a small lake. MOUSES!
She made it to the post office with about half an hour to spare. Racing into the buildin', she presented the postal employee with the card for her parcel only to be informed that she was at the wrong post office. What? But she was at our official post office. Our mail is all sorted in that one and delivered from there.
Apparently, when the mall stopped acceptin' parcels, some genius at Canada Post decided that it would be a good idea to redirect parcels to the post office in the same village as the mall even though that post office was not actually our post office. Not part of our address or anythin'. MOUSES!
The peeps at our post office all thought it was pretty stupid, too. They had complained when it was done but no one had listened. Again I must say, MOUSES!
So my peep had a decision to make. Was she gonna drive back over the river that was now a lake, to go to the post office that was not our post office, before it closed for the weekend or was she gonna first go to the store to get some more butter for makin' candy, on account of her havin' run out of that. What to do... What to do... She went for the butter.
But it occurred to the peep that maybe, just maybe, she could get her groceries and get out of there in time to go back over the river that was a now lake, and make it to the other post office that was not our post office, before closin'. She decided to try.
She raced through that ol' grocery store, pushin' the cart through the aisles as quickly as she dared, dodgin' peeps here, there and everywhere. There were peeps all over the place. And their carts had been parked in the grocery store aisles in the most inconvenient of spots. Of course, the randomly placed displays that the grocery store peeps had haphazardly scattered about didn't help, either. And the double whammy of a cart bein' parked next to a display, blockin' entire aisles, so that peeps could catch up on a year's worth of chattin' was makin' my peep a little hot under the collar, if you know what I mean. She normally wouldn't care but that day, she was in a hurry.
Surprisingly enough, the peep managed to get what she needed and into the check-out aisle relatively quickly and without knockin' over a single chattin' peep or haphazardly placed display in the store. Well there was... Nah, she just bumped into that rack with the cart. Didn't actually knock it over. MOUSES!
Then she was back on the road, drivin' over the river that was now a lake, peerin' through the windshield whose wipers were workin' up a frenzy but not doin' much of anythin'. The words my peep used regardin' those wipers will not repeated, here, as Nerissa's Life is a family-friendly blog.
Peep #1 pulled into the parking lot of the other post office that is not our post office but to where all our parcels are now bein' redirected. It was after five. MOUSES! But she took a chance. She thought maybe... just maybe...
The lights on the Christmas tree in the window had been turned off and things were bein' put away but as luck would have it, someone at the post office had forgotten to lock the door. Peep #1 swung open that post office door and stepped inside and once you're in, you're in. They had to give her her parcel, for sure.
A few minutes later, she was back in the car. The rain was still comin' down and the windshield wiper was still wonky. The peep was desperate to get home 'cause she felt like she was comin' apart at the seams.
And so was the wonky windshield wiper! To add a little more excitement to the mix, part of the wiper was now flippin' about - separately - from the rest of itself. A clear plastic piece was workin' its way off the main part of the wiper and flippin' about like a fish out of water even though, with the heavy rain, there was plenty of water about.
The peep pulled over and stopped the car. It was dark. She didn't know if the clear plastic thing was supposed to be there or not. Was the wiper fallin' apart? Should that plastic thing have been removed when the wiper was installed? Whatever was goin' on, surely nothin' was supposed to be flippin' about like that. She got out of the car, stepping into the heavy rain and shoved the plastic thingy back in.
Thankfully, Peep #1 arrived home, safe and sound. She unpacked the groceries and I, havin' finished workin' on my blog for the day, once again hopped up onto the kitchen counter. Had the peep remembered to buy tuna and nip? Inquirin' minds wanted to know.
Unfortunately, there was not a trace of tuna nor nip to be found. "How are you gonna make tuna fudge and nip balls without the tuna and the nip?" I questioned.
If you ask me, my peep had better improve her attitude 'round her or she's gonna end up on Santa's naughty list. If he hears 'bout her not makin' me any tuna or nip candy... If he hears 'bout that, she's gonna be in trouble for sure. And you don't wanna get into trouble this close to Christmas. If you're gonna cause trouble, best to do it after the naughty and nice lists have been finalised and sent to the printers. Believe me, I know. MOUSES!