Mail, FedEx and UPS drivers understand small children excitedly competing to be the person who “gets” the mail or package. Whenever possible, they thoughtfully divide the delivery among the small outstretched hands. Today, the “UPS store,” as my children call it, brought two small packages. The driver handed one to each 5-year-old. Evan raced in the house to deliver the package. The other 5-year-old, ran to HIS house with a package. A package addressed to me. A package from Victoria’s Secret. I’ll give the neighbors milk, sugar and eggs, but I really don’t think they need my underwear.
I can’t help it. Just kept imagining the scene from that Steve Martin movie. So, in my best Steve Martin impression:
The new underwear are here…[jumping up and down…] the new underwear are here…YAY!…the new underwear are here!!!
Okay, maybe not my best…still…in my head it was WAY funny 🙂
Even funnier, because I act just like my name is in the phone book when we get a package that isn’t tea bags, printer ink or coaxial cable. Underwear without cartoon characters? I’m somebody!
I don’t need nothing but this underwear. I don’t need nothing but this underwear and this lamp. I don’t need nobody or nothing. I don’t need nothing but this underwear, this lamp, and this paddle game!