Curse You Amazon.com!

Disclaimer: I received zero compensation for this post, but if Amazon.com would like to pay me a billion dollars for the free publicity to my 9 loyal readers, I'll take it.

Since moving to the Chalet and befriending Rupert, I have become a homebody. 

I loved shopping, well still love shopping, but I don't feel the need to run out all the time to do errands. In fact, I kind of avoid going out to run errands, preferring to get creative instead.  "I wonder if the kids will notice if I use canned Evaporated Milk on their cereal."   Totally gross.. I know.  *sigh* I miss Homegrocer.

The internet has been fabulous for enabling my homebody status.  The UPS man has gotten to know us well, or more like gotten to know the Juans, who have become adept at accepting my packages. 

Back in November, I got an email from Amazon.com to try out Amazon Prime for free for 6 months.  Amazon Prime is essentially a program where you get free 2-day shipping on any order, no order minimum.  With the holidays quickly approaching, and holiday shopping looming, I signed up,although I was hesitant of the benefit.  Then, I sprained both ankles and could barely walk.  Mr. Boy was complaining that he needed new a lunchbox since his was torn, AK's markers had been ruined when she tried to use them in the bathtub.  I beckoned for my laptop, 4 clicks and 2 days later a box arrived with the supplies the kids were begging for.

Genius!  Then Skoopi needed a dog hiking boot (yes, i know... the dogs are spoiled) for a paw that got a cut and to preserve her ability to go on morning hikes.  I  hit up a few pet stores, and everyone kept referring me to someone else.  Annoyed at the fourth store, I whipped out my toosmart for me phone and bam.. 2 seconds later I had an Amazon phone app, and 4 seconds and 2 days later Skoopi had fantastic dog boots. And that is how I became hooked.

But here's the thing, Amazon is making a mint off of me.  This is what I greeted me on my doorstep, and this is a typical day. Three boxes!  Inside these boxes were a baseball bat bag for Mr. Boy, Mr. Man's Favorite Granola Bars (that are only found at a supermarket across town), and some organizing supplies for AK's closet. Yesterday I ordered popsicle sticks, red pencils, and black thread.  It's crazy addicting and I'm pretty sure I'm going to end up on some Intervention show, clutching my smiley-face boxes as I get dragged off to rehab. 

And for the record, the kids noticed the Evaporated Milk and it's a definite no go.  I'm not sure if the kids are ever going to forgive me for that one.