Dear The Shaefers,
I am so sorry. Your Christmas card has been delivered to our house 4 times now. And each time, I put it back in the mailbox, flag raised, and last time with a yellow post-it on it- alerting Mr. Postman to make sure it goes to you.
Our mailman has picked it up each time. And then as he shuts the mailbox door, he peels out of there as fast as he can, like he's trying to get the heck out of Dodge- he has created a divot (although there is no grass there) about the size of a small canyon. Not your fault. He does it everyday. The husband is weary of fixing it. He is running out of gravel to fill it.
I digress. Back on subject, I am sure Mrs. Barbara Driscoll is wondering if you have received your card, tucked in the red envelope. And she is not aware that it keeps coming to us. Nor is she aware that the children have been jonesing to open it each time it is delivered. But, I have not allowed it. I know. You're totally welcome. I am the defender of the card.
So, today I placed it back in the mailbox after I sharpied-out the little routing stamp at the bottom. That's prolly why it keeps coming to us, since we live on separate sides of the valley from you, and our addresses are only a little tiny bit similar. Like, we have 3 of the same numbers in our 5 digit house number. Yet, they are not in the same spots. And our towns are totally not the same. Honest mistake. Plus it's the holidays, and those postal workers are just trying to keep up with the volume. And, trying to avoid going postal. That would be hard at this time of year, in the post office, don't you think?
And I hope Mrs. Barbara Driscoll enclosed a gift card or family picture or brag letter or something that would make it worth all this traveling it has done. Poor weary card traveler.
And since I'm pretty sure you read my blog, you will know to look for the little red envelope with the mistletoe sticker on the back. It should arrive tomorrow. If all goes well.
I don't know. Maybe you can make sure to hang it on your wall with scotch tape when it arrives? And then perhaps keep it up there past President's Day just so that it can get adequate wall time, since Mrs. Barbara Driscoll really did send it out with ample time to spare before Christmas.
Again, our sincerest desert apologies. Desert apologies, because I'm pretty sure desert apologies are the most sincere. And we are, after all, in the desert.
And if we ever meet in this life, you can thank us. But, really, we are just that benevolent. So if we never meet, we know that you feel you already owe us so much. You're so welcome.
Your friends,
The Laughing at Life's Little Wedgies Family
P.S. I am sure you can appreciate our dedication in getting your card to you, especially as you may not be aware that today, this very day, is the husband's birthday and so it really did take a bit more effort on our part to get that card back in the mailbox. Plus, we said goodbye to Elder B. yesterday, so, you know- really busy.
2 comments:
Dedication, indeed! This is hysterical.
(Sounds like that postal worker needs a lesson or two . . .)
the end!??????
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