I get a little glimpse of my immaturity when I hear my favorite man's truck pull up in my driveway. In fact, my heart starts to race the moment he pulls on to my street! Over the years the excitement has not waned even a tiny bit. If anything....it's gotten more intense.
My love for him is hardly unconditional, though - since my first thoughts are always of what he might be bringing me.
Like today. First, I heard his truck. Then his footsteps. I tried to act nonchalant by not flinging the door open while he was still in the driveway. And I'm savvy enough not to peek (anymore) through the curtains to see if there's a package in his big, strong hands.
And of course, I'm talking about the UPS guy.
Why I still have so much affection for him when he so often disappoints me is a mystery.
Even though I know I'm not the only consumer in this household of 9. And even though I couldn't recall ordering anything (recently). I was still downcast when I opened his package today and found it was not a cool, new, monogrammed tote (which it felt like...in the few moments when I was trying not to open it), nor some cool "bonus" from Land's End for being their Customer With The Most Returns last month.
In fact, most of the time - the packages delivered to our house are not for me. They are uniforms. Or parts my frugal husband has ordered for some appliance that lesser men would have just replaced. Or, worst of all - something for the previous owners of our house!
I deal with this same manic problem with the mailbox. Every time I go out there I expect something amazing might be in there. And my expectations usually have to do with money. As in checks. Preferably made out to me.
I was thinking about this today - in the aftermath of opening the UPS package and finding my husband had ordered himself some much-needed navy blue trousers for work - and realizing that the reason I have this "issue" is because occasionally...maybe, even rarely....I do get unexpected packages in the mail. Just last week my daughter sent me an adorable hand-made pillow and some cute bookmarks she had stamped. Now THAT is worth the walk out to the mailbox.
And once in a blue moon, someone really has sent our family a check for "no reason". One time an elderly lady from our church sent us $250 with a note that said "I was eating cereal this morning and I thought about all the cereal it must take to feed those boys of yours. Use this to buy some." And another time some friends got a small inheritance and decided to tithe on it - - - to us! That was the month every single child got new athletic shoes (and not from Goodwill!)
I bet you wonder if I'm going to end this post with supplying you with my address, don't you? LOL
No, oddly enough - I'm going to tie it into parenting. The past few weeks I have had trouble getting a couple of my children to go to bed and stay there (remember...my youngest two are ELEVEN! So this is not a new rule for them. It's been about 10 years since the rule was established.) 95% of the times they get up, I send them back to bed with an "admonition" or a privilege taken away. The point being....there's rarely any reward for getting up.
But occasionally.....Maybe 5% of the time, I see their cute little brown face; their sweet-smelling, pj-clad body; I hear their lovey-dovey, sleepy voice......and I invite them to sit and snuggle with me for a few minutes. (Sometimes I even give them some of my hot tea....or ice cream!) Sometimes it turns into a delightful, rare, one-on-one mommy/child, no-agenda time.
Sort of like going to the mailbox and finding a card with a sweet, encouraging note (and a gift card.)
I'm not saying they're right to break the 'house rule' and get up. I'm just saying that today when I heard the UPS truck drive up, even though I knew I would probably go back inside being disappointed - It was still worth flinging open the door in excitement. For that itty-bitty slim chance that it was a monogrammed tote.
I hope I remember this tonight when my quiet, solitary tea-time gets disrupted by a child hoping I've got something amazing for him.