Mundane Things

Delivery drama

Music from the radio were playing softly in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. I put the shawl on my head as a makeshift hijab and opened the door to my apartment. Standing in the dark corridor was the delivery guy. Despite the grey coloured raincoat that he was wearing, he was still drenched from the rain. My son, Aqil, followed me to the door as I opened it. Ever-friendly, he greeted the delivery guy.

"Uncle!" he exclaimed. His vocabulary still very limited.

The delivery guy was crouching on the floor as he tried to retrieve my order from his bag. The light coming from the dining area provided him with some visibility. Entertained by my son's antics, he smiled and placed a bottle of Pepsi on the floor inside the grille. Once he found my order, he stood up and handed them to me. That's when my son tried to lift the bottle up. "Leave it. I'll get it later," I told him. I carried my order back inside and placed it on the dining table that was pushed against the wall near the kitchen.

When I return, my son was still trying to carry the bottle inside. I picked up the bottle and laughed. Then, I placed it on the dining table as well. Still smiling, I walked back to the door. In that instant, I saw my son closing the door. He was waving to the delivery guy. "Okay, bye," he said and proceeded to close the door. "No, Aqil!" I half ran, half walked as I tried to stop him from closing the door.

"I haven't paid the uncle yet, Aqil," I told him while shaking my head and smiling. Like me, the delivery guy was amused by the whole situation too. He laughed as I handed him a RM50 note. He took the note and opened a small zip lock bag containing money. He told me to wait. "That's okay. You can keep the change," I told him. He smiled and thanked me, while sealing the zip lock bag close. As I turned to walk back inside, he called out to me.

"Wait!" he said. "The voucher. For the late delivery," he continued.

He scrambled to open the zip lock bag again. While waiting for him to retrieve the voucher, my son called out to me. He was standing by the door. "Ummi, hurry up!" he said. Distracted, I told him to wait. With a mischievous smile on his face, he closed the door halfway and said, "Bye, Ummi." "Hey, you're not going to lock me out, are you?" I asked.

The mischievous smile was still on his face when he said, "Bye," as he attempted to close the door again. This time, I had to block the door with my hand. The delivery guy then called for me. Chuckling, he handed me the voucher. I thanked him and walked back inside. "Come," I said to my son as I ushered him in.

Excited, my son rushed to the dining table and climbed up his usual seat. Then, peeking into the food container, he asked, "Wow, what's that?" "That's spaghetti," I told him. "Aqil want! Aqil want pasetti!" he replied while he bounced up and down his seat.

"Okay. Let's get you some spaghetti," I said with a smile.