Not because of Oprah. Not because it’s tea time (is it tea time?).
Because that’s when the mail comes.
On days when I have no obvious reason to leave the house, mail time becomes the thing I look forward to most. Both to mark the time of day (which Oprah also marks, because my DVR is set to record the show so if I look up and see the red light on our satellite receiver, I know it’s after three), and to bring new things to the house. A new Netflix movie? Bills? Dare I hope…actual letters from people?
It would be even better if we had a hot mailman, but we don’t. We have a serious, almost surly guy who barely makes conversation with me when I see him, even though I have, on occasion, offered him cold drinks. One time I answered the door with the baby in my arms, and lit right up.
Maybe he’s gay. Next time I’ll have Stewart answer the door in a towel. We’ll see if he gets chatty then.
What a stay at home mom you are. 🙂
Wow, I am glad that I called you around 3 o’clock becuase you were clearly suffering from “the world aroudn me doesn’t exist mope today” You hid it from our conversation though
Aloha my friend
I don’t even remember what actual mail looks like anymore….isn’t that sad?
Our mailmain is a hippie throwback who is always good for a ten minute conversation. My last one with him was about long pants vs. shorts on a summer day delivering mail. Fascinating.