Oh man in brown how my heart does beat faster when I hear the distant rumble of your truck. As you rumble up Cullom Way I do hope and pray that maybe today you will stop at my house again. Our visits are so brief, and yet they define my entire day. If your truck stops there is joy and expectation. If you rumble by my heart sinks and I remind myself that tomorrow is another day and perhaps then will I see you upon my doorstep.
I watch you pull to a stop and then rummage in the back for what is only moments but seems like a lifetime to see what kind of box will be pulled from the cavern of goodness. You jog to my door in your jaunty little shorts. As the doorbell rings I know you hear my squeals of delight even as you are heading back on your way. What is it today? My latest ebay find? The monthly delivery from diapers.com (each box containing over 400 diapers for the littlest bums in the house)? Gymboree? Garnet Hill? Athleta? Or a rare and unexpected gift from someone who knows me too well?
Oh UPS man, my heart does long for your visits. But if you pass me by on your 10:30 a.m. run I know I still have a shot at the 5:00 p.m. run and so I wait. I wait.
P.S. Just an aside that it is SO not cool when you pull up and then run across the street to the neighbors. Its enough to send me for the box of wine.