The bells, the bells!

“I got you a present!” shrieks Sister excitedly, hopping from foot to foot as I wearily enter the house.

She gives me a box, and I look expectantly at it. It is a doorbell.

“It’s a doorbell!” she says rather unnecessarily. “Hooray!” I respond with genuine enthusiasm. No longer will my hordes of daily visitors stand beating on my door to no avail; no more will I receive irate phone calls from friends telling they’ve been standing outside hollering for the past ten minutes; never again will I experience the annoyance of the little postcard from the Royal Mail on a Saturday morning, informing me that We tried to deliver a parcel to you, but you weren’t in.

It is late, and I am badly in need of sleep, but my immediate priority in life is obviously now to set up my doorbell. We take to it with screwdrivers and eventually get it to ding-dong. As I am replacing the cover, I accidentally press another button, and the doorbell cheerfully begins to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. It is magical. We gaze at each other with a sense of awed wonder.

“Press it again,” urges Sister jumping up and down on the spot. I obediently push the button and a dog begins to bark from inside the doorbell. Kat leaps several feet in the air and disappears underneath the table, hissing. Like an addict returning for another fix, I push the button again, and again, and again. The doorbell performs several musical wonders, and we decide upon a cheerful, chirpy little jingle that makes us both do a happy dance when we hear it.

Dirk phones in the middle of the proceedings, and we play the happy tune at him. “Oh, sweet sassifrass,” he sighs, sounding disturbed. “Are you going to dance all the way to the door now every time I visit?” We inform him that this is indeed the case, and he seems to deal with it quite well.

“Wouldn’t it be funny,” he adds thoughtfully, “if someone was to come to your door at random intervals in the middle of the night and press the doorbell?”

My enthusiasm begins to die down a little bit. “No,” I say after careful consideration, “that would not be funny, Dirk. It would not be funny at all.” Sister sniggers. Apparently she thinks it might actually be quite amusing, being someone who is not so fiercely protective of a girl’s right to a night of uninterrupted sleep.

Boys can steal your innocent joy sometimes. Anyway, we go upstairs, having gone outside and pressed the doorbell several times. As I get ready for bed, I realise Sister is standing in the spare room, peering out into the darkness. “What are you doing?” I ask curiously. She doesn’t turn around. “I want someone to come to the door,” she says, a hopeful note to her voice. Good grief.

I go to bed.


6 thoughts on “The bells, the bells!

  1. What is it about bells and telephones that gets us girls moving, between my daughters and I visitors don’t have long to wait outside and the phone hardly has to start ringing….

  2. mcbouncy says:

    McLovely bought me the best doorbell in the world ever!!!!

    It plays the theme from Mr Benn.

    Ok for you children, Mr Benn was a cartoon from back in the day. A little man who went to a fancy dress shop every day. When he would change into the costume in the changing room it would transport him into an adventure – depending on the outfit he was trying on….

    Anyway, everyday at 3.15, my doorbell will ring at least 20 times. McGinger considers it funny to stand with her finger on the button. She thinks that I will think I have a visitor and run to the door to greet them. It worked the first time, but a year later it no longer works. Even I can catch on to some things! Instead I do my “happy dance” to the theme from Mr Benn….

  3. Ooh Killing me Softly – now that’s a doorbell. I always fancied a doorbell that played the Mission Impossible theme tune, kind of like a countdown to get to the door before your visitor explodes…

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