Yesterday, we got home after dark. I
was facing the other way by mailbox row, having come in from the other
direction. I stayed back far enough that The Pony had T-Hoe’s headlights to
illuminate EmBee’s gullet. “Look way in
there, Pony. I was supposed to get a package today.”
“No. No key in there. No package.”
“But the tracking said it would be here today. Huh.”
“Well…it seems like Dad and I got a
package the other day.”
“Nobody told me you got a package.”
“It was one of those big envelopes.”
“No. This was a book. A thick book. It wouldn’t fit in an
envelope.”
“I don’t know then.”
“Well…where is the envelope.”
“I put it on the couch so you’d see
it.”
“Only last week I told you to get rid of those two boxes on
the couch that had been there since Christmas. And you found your Physics Lab
Kit for your college correspondence course! What makes you think I’d notice an
envelope on the couch?”
“I don’t know.”
So this morning, I asked Farmer H if
we got a package.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen a
package.” I guess now that I made him take his big red milk crate off the front
wall of the house, finding packages isn’t that appealing to him. I looked on
the couch. There was a big square paper/cardboard envelope. I picked it up. It
felt like it could be my book. I didn’t have scissors or a butcher knife or
time to open it this morning.
“PONY! Dad said he doesn’t remember getting a package. Are
you sure you didn’t get this Saturday, when you drove to the mailbox? It could
be my book, if it came a day early.”
“Um. Maybe I picked it up?”
“When I asked what we got in the
mail, you said, ‘Just a few college things for me.’ How could you forget a
whole package that you had to use a key and get out of the package boxes?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yet you carried it in from your truck. All the way from the
BARn field.”
“It was the first thing I set down.”
The absent-minded professor strikes
again. This is getting more serious than (having not done so) telling me he’s sure he put a Coke in
the mini fridge for me.
Well, they have two. One of them they NEVER forget...
ReplyDeleteMy husband puts my mail on his desk along with his & then tells me I didn't get anything!!
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteYes. In fact, not only do they not forget it, but it consumes their every waking (and non-waking) thought.
****
fishducky,
I don't mean to brag, but MY husband has been observed to take the mail out of EmBee, sort through it, and stuff an envelope with an insurance refund check into his back pocket. WHILE I WAS SITTING IN THE CAR WATCHING HIM! I had to ask three times what he put in his pocket before he confessed.