I suspect that is what my husband loves most about me. You know, the Dragon. He just prefers that the Dragon does not breathe fire his way. He does get a kick when watching the Dragon in action though. I think he feels as long as he's married to a Dragon, he's safe.
I went back to Shabby Chic on Kensington Park Road and had a list. Remember Caitlin from last week? She sprung into action right beside me (awesome job, Caitlin). She then asked if I would mind paying for the goods first, while she called around and sorted out delivery, and delivery costs.
Ah. That filthy word- delivery.
Upon hearing that word? The Dragon roared to life!
The Dragon said- Would it be possible, Caitlin, to instead call a cab? I think the table could fit into one of those larger cabs, and tell the driver that I have a little dog with me, and tell him I would need help carrying the table up to a first floor flat.
And just like that? The unnecessary issue of delivery was solved! Even better- the taxi came in 6 minutes! So within that 6 minutes? I paid for everything and directed the packing (just put everything you can into the basket, thank you), as well as began moving my packages closer to the entrance of the shop. And I suspect because I actively assisted, Caitlin and Colleague not only packed, they even carried the table into the cab for me.
Then I gave them both a hug. (I know- so American and so not proper! ) I was so relieved, and happy! I felt back in my element! Damn, I've missed you, Dragon!
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