The husband brings in the mail (I don't bring it in, it's too far. All the way at the end of the driveway sits our little mailbox! I mean, come on, what do you expect from this 25-year old!?). So, he comes home from work bearing it like a heavy burden, plopping it onto the kitchen counter, and sighing, "More bills," quite often. These days though, it's a little exciting as most of what's milling through our U.S. Postal Service is Christmas cards... or "holiday" cards... or Chrismahanukwanzaakah... (I'm oh-so accomodating). So, with bated breath we shuffle through our stack looking for the newest family picture and accompanying letter (Delilah got so big! Jack is good at math--so glad to know! Quinton got braces! Eugene is taking fencing lessons! Go Eugene! (Note to sender: we really do love these cards)). Anyway, these days, there are fewer Christmas cards than last. Of course, it is the 16th, so maybe they are still on their way. God-speed to you, little Christmas cards!
So, yesterday's mail presented this precious little envelope. A pregnancy resource center sending Jordan mail.
Jordan is a 15-year old boy.
I imagine opening it and reading the words:
It is with glad tidings that we inform you of So-and-so's pregnancy! You're going to be a father. Congratulations, boy! You've done the species proud! And a very, merry Christmas to you!
While I do this, the husband is quickly removing his belt to give Jordan a good, old fashioned whipping and Jordan is screaming, "Save me! I didn't do it! I don't even know a So-and-so!"
In reality, Jordan's school did a fundraiser for this organization (filling a baby bottle with change) so I guess we're slave to their automatic mail service now. But, one can imagine the other scenario.
And favorite thing #16. This thing is awesome and for under $30, I might just make it mine.
A Holga camera.
Did you think YOUR eyes were open?