I used to be good at mailing things. Of course, that was when I worked in a fileroom, and my job was going to the post office to mail company things. I could easily slide in my nieces and nephews birthday presents, and I knew all the online tricks for making mailing packages easier.
Now, I've graduated out of the fileroom, and going to the post office seems like a major inconvenience. Somehow, I can never make their office hours. Or my car just doesn't like to spend time there. It would rather be lounging at Target or Starbucks.
My niece, Marissa, had a birthday on Saturday. I had her present a few weeks ago. And I mailed it...today.
I reluctantly called my sister yesterday to confirm their home address since they recently moved. By calling her (since my mom didn't answer) that meant I couldn't blame the post office for my own tardiness.
"You haven't mailed it yet?!" she said in her best older-sister scolds younger-sister voice.
"No...I didn't know the address..." I said in an attempt to cover.
"Just bring it home for Thanksgiving," she said.
"No, I will mail it!" I said bravely, as some people would say, "I will climb that mountain!"
I usually order directly from a online retailer, and that helps me get the presents there a little more on time. But sometimes that feels impersonal. I always wonder if they really read those little typed messages that are supposed to be included with the package that are 150 words or less. Maybe each of them have all of those typed little messages saved in a shoebox with a heart made from construction paper gluesticked on the top. --An auntie can dream!
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