Dear Mr. Mailman--
You know, we have a strange relationship, one in which you have the upper hand. Or, as
Seinfeld would say, "
Hand". You have Hand because you bring me things; I have to wait for them. Some days, you're nice & come early. Some days, I don't see you until dark. I'm at your mercy.
So why are you tormenting me by not bringing the remaining balls of Rowan I ordered?? Now, I don't want to hear excuses, about how you're just the middleman, the messenger. You're not the Yarn-Shop-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named. All you do is deliver & you have no control over when items come into the post office. Yeah, yeah, whatever. Since I'm too far away from the Yarn-Shop-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named, I have to take my frustrations out on someone.
Someone has to feel my wrath & I'm sorry it has to be you.
You've dropped
many a few packages off at my door. You know what I buy. You know what I am.
Now I'm going to have to take the Hand.
I would hate to cut you off from Christmas cookies this year (I don't do homemade cookies for just anybody...you're special). I would hate to have to give your cookies to the UPS guy, who was here over a week ago. Don't worry, nothing happened...he seemed to sense my impatience as well because he set my package down, rang the doorbell & took off running. By the time I got to the door, his truck was rounding the corner. Smart guy.
Don't think I
like standing by the mailbox day after day, either. And yes, that was a nasty look I gave you when you handed me bills, no boxes. I want my yarn today. Tomorrow at the latest. Otherwise, I'll be forced to take drastic action. Instead of getting
my cookies come Christmas, I'll substitute my great aunt's, who bakes fluffy cookies each year that no one eats. My kids don't even eat her cookies (what kid doesn't eat cookies?). You want some air cookies this year? Do you??
Set the package down by my door, walk away & no one gets hurt. Got it? Good.

5 balls Rowan Kidsilk Haze, courtesy of UPS. Not enough for the Modern Quilt Wrap.
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