So there I am in the kitchen, frantically deciding whether I have time to get the frozen food into the freezer before crazypixie has a total meltdown upstairs, the Tesco delivery man has left the front door open (again, grr) and a head peers into my hallway, shouting to me in my kitchen ‘I’m canvassing for…’ He got no further as I swung my pregnant self around and snarled ‘Oh, just go away……’ And he did. Very quickly.
Of course there are issues I’d love to take the time to discuss with politicians, the proposed cutting of child benefit being one, and I’m going to vote in the upcoming elections, even if I’m labour (producing a baby as opposed to being a member of the political party) but if one more feckin canvasser wakes up my crazypixie I won’t be responsible for my actions.
For the last local elections I actually put a sign on the door; the wording, if I can remember correctly was:
‘No canvassers or salespeople please. If we require information on your policies or products we would rather seek you out. Please Respect our Privacy.’
The original wording which was vetoed by himself (too crazylady apparently) was:
‘No Salespeople or Canvassers, We are Tight Fisted Anarchists’.