At 1-3pm on a Tuesday Afternoon it's the Asda Man.
My kids LOVE the Asda Man.
When the kids find out he's coming the kids celebrate with a dance. A tribal-esque routine whereby they hurl themselves around the room stamping their feet as they go.
They're calling his name at the top of their voices and ask "can he hear us?"
Convinced that the Asda Man can hear them they assume their meerkat lookout post on the window ledge taking it in turns to watch.
They begin to grow impatient for his arrival (as do I, I need a chocolate fix) and the tribe turns wild. Scaling the walls, random screams, toys strewn all over the place.
They collapse from exhaustion and just as they begin to doubt there's such a thing as the Asda Man they hear the hum of a the van outside. Then Silence. Overcome with excitement they freeze.
Thankfully it is the Asda Man. I open the front door ready to receive our goods. The tribe stampede toward the door and it takes all my strength to stop them escaping. The A-Bomb manages to squeeze his head past me. Worried that the Asda Man might not be able to find us he gives a deafening yell 'we're over here'. The Asda Man is taken back a little as he's already putting our stuff down on the doorstep for us.
Once everything is inside we say our farewells. As you would expect the tribe are just as zealous in their goodbyes. Fanatical waving, shouts of appreciation, jumping all over the place. The door closes and the kids mount the window ledge once more to catch a last glimpse of the Man as he drives away.
Now it's time to unpack. Immediately the tribe begin to rummage through the bags in search of treats. Of course they have to wait until everything has been put away. Or not.... rather under the guise of helping me bring the food through to the kitchen they sneak what delights they can from the bags and disappear. They reappear only once they've run out of supplies. They come in search of another treat and I oblige because I want a treat too. We all sit on the sofa enjoying our long awaited reward.