As I was looking over some things I’ve written in the past, I stumbled upon this gem that I wrote on December 13, 2007:
An imaginary conversation I had in my head today while waiting in line to ship a package:
“How much will it cost to ship this?” I said, struggling not to drop my packages, my purse, Kitty, Puppy, a pair of small sunglasses and a hand-knitted winter hat. “This small box and this big package…not all this other stuff. And, you can box up the larger package for me, right?”
“The small box is no problem, but I’m sorry, Ma’am,” the clerk in the purple and black shirt said. “If the bigger package won’t sit still long enough to be measured, we can’t ship it from here.”
“But, I’ll pay extra,” I said, tapping my credit card on the counter.
“…and there will be an extra surcharge for all the noise. Is there anyway you can tape the on/off switch to off?”
“You can still hear that? All that screaming isn’t just in my head?” I asked. “Believe me, I’ve tried. I can’t seem to find the switch. I even took out the batteries,” I explained.
“…and there’s some rule about not being able to ship humans…” the clerk continued.
“Prove to me she’s human right now, and I won’t ship her anywhere.”
This post still makes me laugh, and it got me thinking. I remember that day as though it were yesterday. Claire’s 2nd Year wasn’t as terrible as some warned, but it wasn’t without its challenges. That day was one of the tougher ones. Honestly, three was a bigger challenge for me, but I still wouldn’t change anything. (I can say that because we both escaped Year Three relatively unscathed.)
She’s four now, and it is rare that I threaten to ship her anywhere in a box.
So far?
So far, I love four.
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