A new dimension of domestic happiness

This year, for the first time ever, Adam and I have signed up for a newspaper delivery service. For four days out of the week our paper will be thrown out of some local's car window towards, roughly, hopefully, the direction of our letterbox. Big deal, may say some of you. Not me! I feel like now I'm in a whole new world; each morning, I can amble out in my nightgown, lean over and grunt as I pick up the news of the world, stand back up again and couch the small of my back in my hand and wish I wasn't feeling so old; just like I see on any number of American (or for that matter, Australian) television shows. If I'm really lucky, I'll see a neighbour and wave and say "Mornin'!" brightly. I may appraise the weather and decide what clothes will be appropriate to wear that day. I may even take a deep breath and take a moment to enjoy this new day of life I've been blessed to be given. That, or, I may have to bring along my toddler - nay, almost preschooler- who insists on coming and unwrapping the plastic, as if it's a present, in between wanting to run out in the traffic: or, I can bounce a 10kg+ (20+ pound) baby on my hip and realise again just why my spine is dangerously unaligned. All this whilst trying to keep my dressing-gown tied up. I don't think the neighbours would appreciate a streaker. Or maybe they would? Conclusion: if all continues well, I may be one step off warm fuzzy slippers, or embark on a quest to perfect a home-made martini, or some other symbol of 1950's glamour. Or not.