The Wrong Stuff

Today I stopped at the post office and distractedly grabbed whatever was inside our box, then continued on to several other errands. Once back home I was delighted to see I had gotten a small package--one of those 8.5 x 11 bubble mailers-- containing a card and something sloppily wrapped in red and green tissue paper. How exciting, I thought--just when I had finally resigned myself to not getting even one gift from anyone, here was a gift for me! I ripped it open and found a piece of folded, striped fabric too small to be used for anything, and a wooden peg rack decorated with some painted snowmen, and a homemade card depicting a smiling reindeer thanking me for a "wonderful Christmas!" And saying how great it was to have spoken with me and how we had to get together again soon, Love Melanie G___.

I decided it was a scam of some sort, a marketing ploy wherein I would Google the artist (I did) and find out all about her on her two websites (I did) and then "like" her on Facebook (I didn't) and she would have landed a whole new client for her crafts. After all, the postage only cost $2.56 and perhaps she considered it a sound investment, although the envelope added another $1.79.

After wasting too much time looking at Melanie's so-called art and deciding I had seen quite enough, I looked  more closely at the envelope and saw that it was addressed to "Andrea & Ron" with no last name at all and a completely different PO box number. It wasn't even for me, and in fact was only proof that A, our overworked postmistress Angie was still not up to speed following the harrowing rush of Christmas and B, I'm an idiot.

I was quite relieved, not at being an idiot but at not having to thank someone for that wrong stuff, even though I'm back to zero Christmas gifts this year, which kind of sucks. If you want to send me something, it's PO Box 731, South Freeport, Maine, 04078.