Comedy: December 22, 2021 Issue [#11128] |
This week: Ghosts of Christmas Presents? Edited by: Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥmas More Newsletters By This Editor
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Please don't tell me I have to return a misdelivered package during this busy season! |
ASIN: 0995498113 |
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Amazon's Price: $ 19.95
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It's usually a quieter time as Christmas draws near. There's so much excitement especially when children are involved. I loved living through the eyes of children when they awakened in the morning to find that Santa came.
Well, as many of you parents know, keeping the magic of Christmas under wraps until the big morning isn't always easy. I remember how difficult it was trying to get the youngins to bed the night before. I would read the Night Before Christmas after the Christmas cartoon of the evening was finished. Their dad would gather all the hidden presents, and I would wrap the last minute gifts that I hadn't had the time to wrap since I was baking for a solid week and making the traditional Christmas Eve pizza and hot cocoa.
Years flew by, and when my youngest was turning ten, my son was born. The older children didn't believe in Santa, anymore but they tried to keep if fun and magical for their baby brother. He caught on quickly, about Christmas morning by the time he was a toddler. My husband and I had waited until he had fallen asleep to move a too big to wrap gift next to the tree. It was one of those very popular little coupe-cars with a stearing wheel and beep-button for a horn. Not like the modern battery powered kid-cars, nope! This one was toddler-foot operated.
It was about 2:00 in the morning before I finally put my head down on the pillow to crash out. Sometime after 3:00 a.m. I heard this strange noise and it was getting closer to the bedroom. I had the door opened slightly so I could watch out for my two sleep walkers. I was able to reach the door from my bed and open it enough to hear the beep-beep of the little car's horn, and the sight of my little angel, wide awake, who found the car next to the tree, which was in close proximity to his bedroom.
His angelic yet somehow mischievous face was smiling broadly. "This mine from Santa?" Yes, Web-Son, that's your car from Santa. Of course he was too excited to go back to sleep, so I moved myself over to the living room sectional, and tried to rest a bit while he enjoyed "driving" his very own car.
By normal morning, my son had snuggled up on the other end of the sectional and fallen asleep. The next shift of Christmas gift openers was about to begin as the girls joined in on the merriment.
The holidays bring stress for so many of us. However, if we capture joyful moments such as these, we are best able to forge on and make things less stressful -- right?!!!
Not so fast! That little angelic toddler, is now a married man.
I got a text notice on my phone that my order is being processed, from Staples. I searched my brain over whether or not I asked my son to grab an item on sale with his discount. I couldn't think of anything I bought, but then I realized that he sometimes orders stuff for his house and forgets to switch out my phone number as a text notice on the progress of the order. I figured he must have ordered something going to his place because it's not the first time I get the texts for orders not mine.
Then, my mind traveled elsewhere. 'Tis the season and everything. Perhaps it was my Christmas gift? He did that last year and I received a beautiful Notepad to download mt Amazon Prime shows to watch offline. It's very helpful in Florida, because I use the free, faster, WiFi at the clubhouse to do downloads.
My next notice tells me my order is being shipped. Well, that doesn't mean it's mine, as I said, sometimes after I've ordered something through my son, he forgets to switch out phone numbers.
Next morning there's a huge box at my door. My phone alerted me my item has been delivered. I'm excited, now, wondering what surprise is hiding in that huge box. I remove the box inside from the big delivery box. It wasn't heavy for such a huge box. Once the smaller box was exposed it had an image of what's inside. It was picture of another box. The words on the outside called it a computer case.
I sent a text to my son because he's the computer guy before I opened another box and asked him what was it that was sent to my place. It didn't look like something he would send to me. I got a text back saying, "I know, I sent it to the wrong address. I forgot to change it from your last order."
"What should I do with it?"
I'll call after work tonight."
It turns out that the order wasn't my surprise Christmas gift. In fact I had to return the item to a Staples in our area where my son arranged for their UPS center to print a label, and I just needed to get it to them and they'd take it and return it. His voice wasn't very clear as he was using speaker phone in the car and his phone was further way from him. He told me if they question anything about the return, tell them Lick Anderson said it was okay to do it this way. Now my ears are twisting with my brain at the name given.
"Who's Lick Anderson?"
"He's the store manager at that location"
"His name is Lick? He must really be angry at his parents for giving him such a name!"
"I said "Lick Anderson." Now I'm hearing my daughter-in-law laughing in the background.
"Yeah, Lick Anderson. I heard that."
At this point the speaker went off, and a voice spelled out "R-i-c-k ... RICK Anderson!"
Oh, what a relief to hear that name clearly. I certainly didn't look forward to going to that store, at the UPS return center area, and telling them to check with "Lick" he said I'm good.
Folks, I absolutely hate returning stuff. In fact it's the gene my son inherited from me. He hates returning stuff as well. So, not only was it not a gift, I had to return that which I never ordered and was my son's error. Plus, I was warned that "motherboard" may also show up if his attempt to cancel and stop delivery didn't go through. Thankfully, that delivery was halted.
May your Christmas be smooth delivery, no returns, and "Lick" free.
Until next time -- laugh hard, laugh often!
See you next year!
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