An ode to the most delightful people
During these past few weeks of the stay home executive order, I have done my job to help keep the economy afloat by purchasing many delightful treats. Namely, yarn. Or books. Or knitting needles. Or clothes.
Right now I have a full cart to Target and I’m debating if I should order it, or wait until the stay home order has been lifted and treat myself to an honest-to-goodness-basic-girl-Starbucks-in-hand Target Run.
I know my privilege is showing. But I just want to wander the aisles and pick up things I need (protein bars, toilet paper, dishwasher pods), as well as all the things that catch my fancy (spring dresses, candles, coffee mug, nail polish).
I may press Place Order. Because let me tell you, my inner child has come rushing back when it is time for the mail to be delivered.
Roughly ten o’clock, the USPS truck comes gliding by my house, slowing down, and sometimes even parking in my driveway. That is when I know it will be a good day. They will drop off my regular mail (today: mortgage statement, Jeep warranty alert) and then he gently places a package from Michael’s on my porch.
I try to wait until he has exited my driveway and is quite possibly out of view before I fling the doors open, scamper out (making sure Samwell doesn’t try to escape), and collect my goodies.
When I was a child, I was obsessed with getting mail. I got a book from Scholastic’s book orders that was 100 free things you can get in the mail. Some of it was just pamphlets. It’s how I made two pen pals (because I didn’t have many friends when I was getting to my tween years) and I kept in touch with them until closer to high school. I would exchange letters with my friend Bethany, who also had an affinity for Lisa Frank stationary. And as you know, when I got to high school, I would get letters from my SYP girls.
Back then, mail would arrive between 9 and 10. I would casually make sure that whatever I was doing, I had my eyes (or ears for the sound of the cars reaching the gravel in front of the mailbox) homed in on the metal mailbox on a wooden stem.
If it was a day that my dad would drive me home and mom was working, my dad would truly enjoy racing me to the mailbox. He never let me win and he liked to try to distract me so he would get a head start.
We are absolutely NOT competitive in my family.
The joy of getting mail has not diminished since I was a child. In fact, I believe it has grown exponentially. Two weeks ago, I got only four packages in the mail on the same day and NO bills or junk. It was a beautiful mail day. Glorious. I took a picture of me hugging my mail it was that worthy of a mail day.
So today, I wasn’t treated to my mail from Michael’s that came UPS/USPS, but also the lost order from FedEx! They are extra cheery, always dropping the mail and tap-tap-tapping on the door to let me know that I have a package!
To all of you who are delivering extra during this stay home executive order, I salute you. And thank you from the bottom of my heart because you have been bringing me child-like joy during these days.