Tap, Tap, Tap

Bill was in the backyard cleaning out our recycle bins with a hose, which is just outside the dining room window.  He was busily spraying and swishing water into and out of the two plastic containers when he heard tap, tap, tap coming from the window.  He looked up and there was Mom, holding up a large 12 x 18 U.S. Post Office envelope and wiggling it at him.  She smiled when she realized she’d gotten his attention and wiggled it harder.

“Okay,” he said, smiling and giving her a thumbs-up to acknowledge that he’d gotten her message that something had come for him in the mail, then turned around and resumed the bin cleaning.

Tap, tap.  Tap, tap.

He looked up again and Mom had turned the envelope around so the mailing label was pressed against the window, facing Bill.  She smiled and pointed at his name on the label.

“Okay, I see it,” he said loudly, nodding and smiling back at her before continuing with the bin cleaning.

Tap, tap, tap, tappity, tap.

“What?” he shouted in frustration, turning to look in the window while water proceeded to drain from the upside down plastic bin all over his tennis shoes.

She was making a scowly face and pointing to the large red letters stamped above the mailing label that said ‘Priority Mail.’

Bill rolled his eyes, put down the half-cleaned bins, turned off the hose and stomped back into the house.

“I thought you might want to see this right away,” Mom said, handing it to him as he walked into the living room.  “It was stamped Priority.  That’s what they put on important mail you know.”

“So I saw,” he said, ripping it open and pulling out the rum dyed tee shirt he’d ordered from Crazy Shirts and holding it up for her to see.  “But I think it could have waited until I was done, don’t you.”

“Maybe,” she retorted with a huff.  “But you never know.  It could have been money or a prize.  I’m going to get one of those Priority envelopes from Publisher’s Clearinghouse some day and I would hope you’d let me know about it the minute it got here.”

“I promise I will Mom,” he said.  “But I think the guys at the front door with the roses and balloons and cameras will beat me to it.”


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