Problems problems


I had two problems yesterday, but in the end the Lovely Melanie and I laughed at them both.

Problem #1 was a parcel that I’m trying to recover from a company called Yodel, who describe themselves as a delivery company but would do far better as a security company, since they keep all of their packages very secure – even from their customers.

Yodel depot in Dartford
The Yodel depot in Dartford

Yodel give you three strikes at recovering your parcel; miss those and it’s gone, forever, into the black hole of their depot, which is located on some godforsaken industrial estate in the frozen tundra of Dartford.

If you don’t have a car you can kiss that baby goodbye.

They also have a rather unique telephone helpline service manned by people who are refreshingly candid about their lack of interest in your parcel.  As I say, we had some dealings yesterday, which have culminated in a tense stand-off.

My parcel might come on Saturday…or it might not.  They’re playing their cards close to their chest on this one.

Problem #2 was Millie.  My often-so-lovable daughter cursed with an often-so-flammable temper.

Yesterday morning and evening she completely lost her rag over nothing.  For example, in the evening she was asked to do something small and straightforward: put the tablet down and get undressed ready for bathtime, and, after being asked three times was given an ultimatum: there would be a count of three and if she wasn’t then getting undressed her beloved Furby would be put in a cupboard.

One.

Two…

Three.

OK, Furby goes in a cupboard.

Cue mental breakdown.

Amber was fine, no problem; but Millie was eventually left standing in the shower, with the light off, screaming.

Somewhat later we sat down for a cuddle and discussed this behaviour: how it made us sad, how it made her unhappy, how she needed to get a handle on her temper and realise when it was spiralling out of control.

Well, we’ll see.

And the humour I mentioned earlier?  Wouldn’t it be great if Millie worked on the no-helpline at Yodel?

A customer rings up to ask where their parcel is – “Hello, I’m calling about my parcel, which you apparently tried to deliver at 2.30 in the morning while I was asleep.  Could I possibly arrange a redelivery during daylight hours?”

Millie replies…

I DON’T KNOW!  WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME?!  WHY DO I ALWAYS GET THE BLAME?!  OHH, THIS IS SO UNFAIR!  YOU ARE STUPID!  I HATE YOU!  AAGH! (slams phone down)

We laughed till we cried at this. 🙂

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