I don't drive to the post office ordinarily. I don't see the reason to do so. The post office comes to me every day. Every day (Sundays excluded, of course, because we're a Christian nation.) So I regularly put my mail in my mailbox right outside my door and flip the flag up. It works every time.
Except when it doesn't.
I discovered that birth certificate packet with its many enclosures scattered across my bedroom floor this morning, and upon further investigation, I discovered that Tobias, age 3, decided to do us the favor of getting the mail last night at midnight, opening it, and scattering it on our floor.
I can't decide what's more annoying--the fact that he displaced the *outgoing* mail or the fact that he did it unsupervised at midnight when the rest of us were sleeping. I do know which fact is more disconcerting.
A future escape artist? I hope not. A future postman? Maybe, but I doubt it.
At any rate, he's gotta learn what the flag means first.
I'm about the business of raising godly children. So far, God has blessed us with six of them! My husband owns his own business, and I'm fortunate enough to stay at home with the kiddos. If you're looking for deep philosophy on this blog, you're out of luck. If you'd prefer random tales of childhood tomfoolery, stick around!
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