Dear Pushy Salesmen:

I'm so sorry if I wasn't polite to you at the end of our for-lack-of-a-better-word conversation.  You see, my 18 month old son is sick, and I'd just gotten him to take a nap. Your aggressive pounding on my door not only almost woke him up and made me jump out of my skin, but also frightened my tiny daughter who was actually eating for once in her damn life.


Yes, I'm aware that you can regulate the price per therm on my gas bill, but I've not done enough research to see if 1) it's worth it or 2) you're a scam.  But your being relentless about my making a decision while you're standing on my front porch is gonna piss me off...

Oh, also, have you met MY DOGS?

Well trained cuteness.

Why, yes, they are "large canines."  And I totally did just say, "They won't bite you unless I tell them to."

Forgive me if I'm impolite...but if you stay on my porch any longer, I'm going to let them investigate you.

*smooches* Jenn