Mail Mess Up

You would think I would know better. Know that over-sized letters and packages require more postage than regular ones. Well, in fact, I messed up. Twice.

Return to Self-talking Sender

The first little mishap I justify by saying (I’m great at self-talk when I have messed up) if I could fit it through the mail slot on my mailbox then it should be good to go. Plus, (again more self talk) I did tack on a few extra stamps just to cover off the ‘just-in-case’ possibility.  Not good enough. This delightful package was promptly returned to sender. Me.

What cheesed me off the most was it was a complete waste of the coolest envelope I have used of late. It was actually a bag that looked like 3 ring foolscap paper from Regional Assembly of Text and I made it into an envelope of sorts. No way to salvage it.  Ugh.

Laughter in the laundry

What was the second time, you wonder? So glad you asked. Well, actually, I am not happy you asked because as you will soon see it requires me to be completely honest and share a most embarrassing, yet completely hilarious story.

And so my story begins with a trip to B.C. It would seem every time I visit that province something strange happens. See here for more craziness.

We were staying with long time friends—of the truest kind. Our kids bunked together and had a grand time, fondly reminiscing over old memories and making new ones in the process.

On the morning of our departure, we left in the wee hours, pitch dark, chilly, kids still in PJ’s. It was an uneventful ride home, albeit 9 hours of driving. Now, you need to know that when I get home from a trip I like to unpack, do laundry and ‘re-group’ as soon as possible. I go a bit nutty with all the luggage out for days. As I was dumping dirty laundry on the floor I noticed two pairs of jeans I didn’t recognize.  Oops,  some clothes got put in the bags from the sleep over that didn’t belong to us.  So, I promptly packaged them up and mailed them off to our friends.

Humble pie never tasted so good

A couple of days later, my husband asks me if I have seen his jeans.  I told him no, that they were probably in a drawer somewhere.   This conversation was re-played in our house over the next couple of days until he finally asked “You didn’t send my jeans to B.C, did you?”

Up until this point I had not even considered this a remote possibility. I was convinced the jeans that I had sent back belonged to our friends and that my husband had misplaced his jeans (yup, I placed the blame on him).   But, now, as this idea swirled in my head I began to wonder. Had I, in a moment of epic scatterbrained proportions, sent my husbands jeans to another family?

And so, as you may have guessed, I received a text from my friend a few days later wondering whose jeans I mailed her!  She had asked all her family members and there were no takers.   She is probably still thinking I am insane, but of course, she was gracious and turned around and mailed them right back to me.   In the meantime, I had to sheepishly admit this ridiculous turn of events to my husband.  Humble pie was for dinner that night.  And some stomach hurting laughter for dessert!

So, fess up, have you ever done anything quite so silly?