Am I the only one who had an absolutely brutal re-entry to the real world last week?
Egads. I won't go in to all the details except to say that the box of fudge that my sister, Beth, had sent to my house for my sister Eileen as a Christmas present - which was received the day after my sister Eileen left to return to Michigan - and which we had every intention of sending to Eileen (in Michigan) for her to enjoy from my sister, Beth? Well, that box of fudge didn't quite make it.
It sat near our front door for four days, and then on the seat of my car for two whole days (before I made it to the Post Office), and in a fit of despair, I tore in to the box using one of my keys to rip away the tape. I think I was even moaning, "Need chocolate. NEED CHOCOLATE, NOW."
I opened one little box and ate a few chunks of fudge, thinking ... anticipating ... that I'd send the second box to Eileen, and not even mention that there had actually been two boxes in the beginning. But would you look at what happened to the second box?
That box opened itself and chocolate squares started jumping out at me. AGAINST MY WILL. And now, it's not like I can send a box with 1.5 pieces consumed. That would be so totally rude!
In retrospect, it really would have helped me if the box didn't have TUCKS FAMOUS CHOCOLATE written all over the outside of it. That's just asking for trouble. Especially when it goes to your little sister's house. (Aunt Grace, am I right?!)
(Beth, I'm wicked sorry. I'll send Eileen something else on your behalf. Promise.)