Somewhere, there’s a script. It goes like this: the heroine (me) loves getting packages, especially big ones. Doesn’t matter if they are for other people. The rest of the cast (the delivery guys) conspire to get the packages delivered only when I’m not there. Since I work from home, this gets tricky.

Yesterday, as I rounded the corner after leaving my friend’s house, here comes the UPS guy. Hmmm, I wonder, did I get something? Three packages neatly stacked by the garage door.
Just now, I went to the bathroom to tape up the bloody fingers (more on that later). Thud! Thud! Three more packages neatly stacked by the back door.

A family member works one day a week from home. He manages to receive packages directly from the same guys.

I’ll admit that during the afternoon delivery times, I might be taking the shower that I miss by having to be at the computer before dawn. Infrequently, I’m out back tending to the landscaping. From time to time I am in the bathroom.

Maybe the guys have a Santa complex. Anyway, the two biggest packages (too big for me to lift) have finally gotten here. Family members tend to follow the blog more closely at holiday time, so I’m just saying, fellas, no rummaging around the closets, the garage or under beds. No poking into shopping bags, looking on the roof, in the trunk of my car, or peeling back a corner of the gift wrap.

I mean it.