Day 286 - The Post Office

Last week, I sent Chris a box of goodies for Christmas. It was the box that didn't want to be sent. After turning a Mary Kay box inside out to avoid any manly embarrassment, I packed in all of the items. While sealing up the box I completely ran out of packaging tape, which turned out to be a good thing since I had forgotten to put in all of the Clif Bars that Chris has asked for. So I popped them into my half-open box and headed to the hardware store for more tape.

It was then that I realized I had forgotten to bring along Chris' mailing address. I had to go all the way back home to fetch it. No biggie...he's worth it.

I finally am at the post office with a sealed box and an address. I fill out my customs form firmly and legibly. $37 later and my package is on it's way to Chris.

Three days later...

I see the box sitting on my front porch. It has a note attached that I need to fill out a customs form for it to be sent. (Hmmm...I know that!) I hear the engine of the mail truck so I grab the package and head out to the end of the driveway to meet it. I explained to the driver that I already had filled one out, but that the teller must not have attached it to the box. (I had my receipt right inside if there was any trouble...I did not want to pay the postage again.) She came back for my new customs form and zipped off with the package. So, I figure everything is fine now.

Three days later...

Chris sends me an email about my package. It has arrived, but he is wondering why the contents don't match up with my customs form. Instead of Clif Bars, tuna fish, Christmas decorations, a uniform, and magazines he has a back massager in his box.

So that first customs form ended up on someone else's box and is now in Iraq.

(I know it's too late for long story, short, but..) Now we are in a bit of a mess with this mystery package. Chris is going send it back here to try to get it to it's real owner and the Postmaster is going to reimburse us if he gets charged to mail it.

So if you are missing a back massager, speak up! Too bad we are not finders keepers kind of people...