Christmas comes late

My folks sent a package full of Xmas presents about 4 or 5 days before Xmas. But come the big day, nothing. So, I started thinking that somebody may have stolen our box of goods from the lobby of our building. I mean, what kind of a friggin' Grinch takes someone's package?

So then, I find out my dad sent the box to the wrong address. He had the street name right, but the numbers were off. Then I'm thinking, what kind of jerk takes a box of stuff that's obviously sent to the wrong spot and keeps it?

My faith in humanity has been pretty wobbly for a while and this wasn't helping. My dad even sent a letter to that same wrong address, asking them to put a note on it for the postman to take it back. If that didn't work, I was considering driving by there and asking the folks, 'where's my box?'

It's not that I'm so hyped up about getting more stuff. I really have most of the stuff I want or need. But my parents were crushed at the notion that the presents they sent would not get to us. We've been living apart for going on 19 years now. And we rarely spend Christmastime together anymore. So I know, they're just sweaters and gift certificates and maybe an occasional kitchen gadget, but as the saying goes, 'it's the thought that counts.'

There's a happy ending to the story. The people at the wrong address made sure the box got back to Denver and my folks sent it back this time by registered mail - just to make sure. I picked the box up from the post office yesterday.

So this year - I don't care if it's here or in Denver, I want to see my folks for Xmas.