For The Love of Honey Boo-Boo, Get Out Of My House!


 
I know people have got to make a living, but...

 


(Honey Boo Boo, of course.) Source
 
For goodness sakes.

(Or is it sake?)

Seriously.

My husband once got really irritated with me because I let the Kirby people in our house when I was alone and they were there for three hours. (And, no, I didn't buy a vacuum.)

But, this lady?
(Not Honey Boo Boo's mom.)
(And that is definitely not Sugar Bear beside her.)
(I took this picture shamelessly from the couch.)



Takes the cake.


(I snapped this bad boy right in front of her face.)
 
 

She was at our house for SIX HOURS. SIX HOURS. SIX HOURS. SIX HOURS. On Friday night. Right there in our kitchen. She was trying to sell us a water treatment system, which, admittedly, is pretty awesome. We might actually even get it, but get out of my house already. (We told her we would get it because it's either say yes or have her climb in the middle of your bed yapping her mouth about how tap water has more chlorine in it than a pool does. We might back out. Maybe.)
 

At one point, I told her that the longer she stood at my counter, the more I didn't care about her product. I walked my butt over to the couch and went to sleep. I know it's awful that I left my husband standing there listening to her drone on and on about the benefits of good, clean water, but I had no choice. If I had stood there any longer, I would have made the decision to get our furniture dolly out of the garage and would have plopped her talking self right on it and carted her out the door.

Her and her furry-collared coat.

The thing is, I'm starting to REALLY like the idea of that water treatment system. Along with that system, we will probably get new hot water heaters, which we need. We moved into this house knowing they were in need of replacement. Until last night, I didn't realize how badly they needed to go.

I was enjoying The Casual Vacancy by J.K. Rowling when I heard LOTS of scary noises from the attic. That lasted a long time. My husband had fallen asleep on the couch, so he wasn't there to tell me a herd of thieves weren't right above our bedroom. Being the very courageous person that I am, I continued to read. The thieves continued to thump, I sat straight up in bed, stared at the ceiling and then ran into the living room.

"You have to get up and come get in bed! You have to! I am pretty sure there is something in the attic!"

"Wha--? Kelley, it's the hot water heater. I told you that."

"No, it can't be. It's 11:00 at night. No one is taking a shower, I'm not washing clothes...why should it be doing anything but sitting there right now? I think someone is outside. Or maybe there are raccoons in our attic."

"It's the hot water heater."

"It's not."

"It is."

I guess it turned out to be true, because a few chapters later after I had climbed back in bed, I didn't notice it anymore. Either that, or the raccoons and thieves finally got tired out and went to sleep.

My point?

We need the lady's services, dagnabbit. We want them, anyway. I wish we didn't so I could tell her how annoyed I was that she stood at my kitchen island and practically forced me to eat Chex Mix for dinner. My parents had the boys that night. We were going to go eat at a local Greek restaurant after her demonstration was over. Chex Mix. For DINNER. Chex Mix!

I'm sort of excited about having the "slippery" soft water. I won't bore you with all the benefits she claims this water will give to our family, but I will say that I am excited about washing my hair and not having to use conditioner. I may want to wash my hair so much, I will resort to the way my mom used to wash mine and my sister's hair every now and then just for the fun of it.

In the sink.

We would climb up on the counter, lie down and dunk our head into the sink. She'd lather away. I'm not sure why we couldn't just walk our skinny hind-ends to the bathroom and wash our own dang hair. I think my mom liked doing that for us and we apparently liked it, too.

You know who else likes getting their hair washed in the sink, don't you?


(That would be Honey Boo Boo's mom.) Source


THE HONEY BOO-BOO BUNCH!
 
(New episodes start tonight!)


16 comments:

My Half Assed Life said... [Reply]

I really think I would have gone with the fridge cart. Then, if I did want the system I would call the company and tell them I could only buy it if they made sure that saleslady never ever came to call again. Maybe you could get them to throw in a dinner out for you and your husband even.

Shelly said... [Reply]

Kind of embarrassed to say I am watching Honey Boo Boo right now. Gosh, I think I would have had to resort to my Crazy Person act if a salesperson stayed at our house for that long. You were really nice to her. And my mom used to occasionally wash my hair exactly the same way.

Barb Best said... [Reply]

Slippery soft water and Honey Boo Boo are acquired tastes. Hope you all had a coupon... mamma June would!

Erika said... [Reply]

Once had vacuum people like this - all while my toddler son was trying to sleep upstairs and their super-uuber-vacuum was roaring away and sucking up more and more dirt from the living room carpet.

TS Hendrik said... [Reply]

Six hours, true, but at least you got a good post out of it.

Along These Lines ..... said... [Reply]

I would have to blow up our TV set if HBB and mob ever invaded our pixels. ugh

Winopants said... [Reply]

Six hours is 5 hours and 45 minutes longer than I could have dealt with her! Your husband must be a saint. I don't understand the point of bugging people to buy things. You either need something or you don't, easy!

Guerrilla Mom said... [Reply]

I can't believe you let that woman in your house. At first, I thought you let her in the house with her cat. Then I realized it was her hideous coat.

Regardless, you exercised serious self-control. Yay, you! Your husband is a trooper.

Kimberly Warren said... [Reply]

Is she still there??? Did she watch over your shoulder as you typed this entry. Has her French braid come unwoven yet?

Eva Gallant said... [Reply]

Oh, I don't think I could have tolerated her presence for that long! You deserve a medal!

Yvonne said... [Reply]

Six HOURS??? Good lord! What the heck was she doing there that long? Oh uh uh! I would have told her I had to leave after fifteen minutes. Actually, I probably wouldn't even have let her in. We have a filtered system but I DIDN'T listen to six hours worth of blah, blah, blah. My cousin does it for a living and I just called him up and said, "Yo, need water treatment" and it was done. lol Hope you're enjoying your new casita!

hilljean said... [Reply]

Laughing out loud over here. What on earth was she thinking? Sounds like a nut job who knows an awful lot about water. If you get the treatment will she come back? That would be a deal breaker for me.

yourfriendrobin said... [Reply]

I thought it was her cat, too. Gross.
Still, why did she not leave? I am excellent about getting rid of people because I'm a teacher so I get to practice every year at parent teacher conferences. I have perfected the stand-and-thank while walking towards the door.

Kelly @ In the Mom Light Blog said... [Reply]

O.M.G. - we had the same thing with the water treatment lady from Home Depot! We were almost convinced, but we just didn't have the money. So, the lady had to make a point and stood there in our kitchen and called her boss and was like, "no, they said they just don't care about having clean water." lol we were like, "eh our dog drinks from the toilet and then kisses our kids lips so what's a water treatment system going to do for us." Although I will admit to also having water heater problems from all of the supposed sediment.

Peiji said... [Reply]

oh my goodness, six hours!? is she mad? lol
I would get bored, be a little pissed, and then
just probably not care anymore, haha

Amy Garnett said... [Reply]

I would walk to the nearest creek, carry buckets of water to my house and boil it clean before I'd buy anything from someone who stayed at my house six hours.

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