Woman in the Middle

We were over at Mom in laws house picking up another batch of household hazardous waste to get rid or (properly!) when the mailman came by. He motioned us over so he could remind us that the forwarding order for the mail had expired and he was back to putting mail in the mail box. I thanked him, and then he asked if we were going to move into the house or rent it. I explained that we are planning on selling the house, but that there was a lot of stuff in it so it was taking a long time to get it ready.

“Oh, I am sure.” he said, “Given how much stuff I delivered to her.”

That was when something dawned on me. The mailman knows a whole lot more about us than we might like to think.

He (because around here it is usually a he) knows our political leanings based on the mail we get.

He probably realized what happened when we suddenly began getting mail forward to us for Mom in law and Brother Dear.

He knows which colleges my children attend.

He knows which colleges Hubby and I attended because of all those requests for money from the alumni associations.

He knows Hubby enjoys cars because of all those car magazines we get.

He knows we don’t order a while lot online.

He knows Eldest Daughter enjoys ordering things from Easy.

That is just what I was able to determine off the top of my head. I am sure our mailman knows so much more. Obviously law enforcement is losing out on all kinds of intel if they are not tapping into this resource.

Monday was Columbus Day, the holiday that gets no respect! Government offices are closed but kids still go to school. But the worst part of it? No mail delivery!!! I love the mail! I have loved getting mail ever since I was a kid and, because my mother worked, I was always the first person with an opportunity to grab the mail in my house. I would always stop by that magical little box on my way in from school. Oh the delights that would come on the mail! magazines, letters from my mother’s sisters who lived so far away, sometimes something with a little surprise in it like an ad for a children’s magazine that included stickers. Oh boy!

I still love the mail. The day my Vanity Fair magazine comes is one of the happiest days of the month! Last Saturday was a pretty good mail day. A t-shirt I ordered came as well as two small checks that reminded me that I am a contributor to the household finances, at least in a small way.

Call me old-fashioned, but between the newspaper being thrown in my driveway every morning and the mail coming every afternoon, even the worst day is full of the anticipation of the unknown. Yep, I love me my mail!