Mom's Post Office

 

I'm a mom of 6.
5 of them have their own homes, 1 still lives here.

Some hop in frequently. With or without a reason.
1 lives a bit further away.

They all have their reasons to walk in.
Son 1 loves to buy things for us, especially food or products from different countries.
Son 2 needs the old car.

Son 3 works nearby, and pays quick visits when he passes the house. Sometimes in the middle of the night. We have an agreement: he is welcome when the light is still on. I am a bad sleeper, so when I'm still downstairs...

They all have something in common: mailpackets can go to mom...as she is almost always at home.

It's convenient for them. Their girlfriends never know if a surprise is coming. 

So I sit downstairs early not to miss the mailman (one of the 5 roaming our streets), have parcels of different sizes all over the house, and feel like I am living in a post office.

There are positive aspects to this all: I never have to look for protective materials like little airbags and bubble wrap, always have an empty box somewhere, and I know the mailman and he knows me.

In fact... the mailman/mailboy and I have become friends. At each delivery he takes time for a talk. He knows my kid's names and knows one of my daughters well. Sometimes he feels like one of my sons.
I wouldn't mind him marrying into the family... as he is already part of it.

. . .

About **Syl

Syl: "Life is a chain of challenges. Sometimes the largest challenges are we ourselves. Facing life, facing others and facing yourself requires either a worryless attitude or plain courage. Most of the time it is dealing with judgement. Maybe life is about getting rid of it."