What I've Been Missing
"Aunt Fred? What's in the box?" asked George when we stopped at the post office today on our way home from school.
"A Christmas present for someone far away."
"What is it?"
"It's actually several things, George."
"How many things?"
"I don't know, maybe seven or eight. Just some little things I wanted to send to a friend."
"Is it corn?"
"No, George, it's not corn."
"Is it a violin?"
"No, it's not a violin."
"Is it a bouncy ball?"
"No, it's not a bouncy ball."
We approached the counter and the postal clerk asked me if anything was fragile, liquid, perishable or hazardous. I said it was fragile and perishable.
"Aunt Fred? What does 'perishable' mean?"
"It means can it get rotten," I replied, trying to explain the idea to a seven year old.
"EWWW!! You're sending something rotten to your friend for Christmas?!"
"No, George. It's not rotten now. It just could get rotten if it got lost in the mail."
"What is it?"
"You remember in my hall closet all those jars you saw when you were over? A friend of mine wanted me to send a couple to her."
"Aunt Fred!! You're sending a friend 8 jars of rotten applesauce?!"
"No, George. It's not rotten!"
"But it will be! EWWWWW!!!!"
There was no convincing him otherwise. Even the postal clerk had to stifle a laugh.
So, my dear friend who is receiving the specifically requested applesauce, I doubt there is anything about it that is worth a personal shipment (and don't worry, I didn't send 8 jars of sauce!), but I am ever so grateful for the occasion that provided me with such an incredibly precious moment with George.
These are the little moments I've been missing. But now, now I can treasure them. And oh, how I treasure these moments.
"A Christmas present for someone far away."
"What is it?"
"It's actually several things, George."
"How many things?"
"I don't know, maybe seven or eight. Just some little things I wanted to send to a friend."
"Is it corn?"
"No, George, it's not corn."
"Is it a violin?"
"No, it's not a violin."
"Is it a bouncy ball?"
"No, it's not a bouncy ball."
We approached the counter and the postal clerk asked me if anything was fragile, liquid, perishable or hazardous. I said it was fragile and perishable.
"Aunt Fred? What does 'perishable' mean?"
"It means can it get rotten," I replied, trying to explain the idea to a seven year old.
"EWWW!! You're sending something rotten to your friend for Christmas?!"
"No, George. It's not rotten now. It just could get rotten if it got lost in the mail."
"What is it?"
"You remember in my hall closet all those jars you saw when you were over? A friend of mine wanted me to send a couple to her."
"Aunt Fred!! You're sending a friend 8 jars of rotten applesauce?!"
"No, George. It's not rotten!"
"But it will be! EWWWWW!!!!"
There was no convincing him otherwise. Even the postal clerk had to stifle a laugh.
So, my dear friend who is receiving the specifically requested applesauce, I doubt there is anything about it that is worth a personal shipment (and don't worry, I didn't send 8 jars of sauce!), but I am ever so grateful for the occasion that provided me with such an incredibly precious moment with George.
These are the little moments I've been missing. But now, now I can treasure them. And oh, how I treasure these moments.
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