…was awesome. Thank you all who send us packages. Everything we receive is greatly appreciated and brings us exponential amounts of joy. A recent package from my brother, Trevor, was no exception…well, except that the customs guy seemed to be entirely immune to joy, much less exponential amounts of it.
Normally, Aaron and I are on a first-name basis with the post office people who work with the international packages. However, this was no normal day. Some new guy on a power trip felt it his duty to make known that he was in control and he decided what was acceptable and what wasn’t. I’ll try not to get into too much detail, but get to the irony of the situation.
He was frustrated at me for not having my Peruvian address memorized (almost looking for a reason to deport me); he was angry that the slip said “stickers” and he didn’t know what they were (and they were right on top of everything); he abhorred the fact that there was packets of instant mashed potatoes and the slip said nothing about food. But I really crossed the line when I started looking through some photos of my nephew that were in the package while he was trying to inspect it. He demanded I put the pictures back in the box and to not remove anything from the package until I had left the post office. The irony: when I got home, I discovered that underneath all the mashed potatoes were boxes and boxes of DayQuil and NyQuil. He focused so much on the dumb little details that he never noticed the things he could actually confiscate from me—medicine. And now, our girls are receiving wonderful relief for the cold symptoms.
Just a little ironic…
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