So, I’m home, hanging out with the kids, just chillin’, when the doorbell rings.
It’s the UPS man.
I wasn’t expecting a package, but who knows what last-minute thing my wife might have gotten.
It’s addressed to my family. From Ron’s family.
Well, isn’t that curious? While we send each other greeting cards, our families don’t exchange gifts. Not that we wouldn’t, of course, but by the time I buy gifts for my own kids, their cousins, their step-cousins, grandmas, grandpa, and child-free aunts and uncles, the gift budget is stretched thin. I know Ron is in the same boat.
So this, obviously, is a surprise. I honestly have no idea what it could be. So I call the girls up from downstairs. “Look, girls. We got a package.”
“What is it?” they ask.
“I don’t know. Let’s open it and find out.”
I slice open the tape. There’s a bunch of things in bubble-wrap. I grab the first one.
By golly, it’s a bottle of beer!
Six more bubble-wrapped bottles follow. Plus a note:
Enjoy this sampler of fine ales and lagers, hand selected, specifically with you in mind. Cheers! (I had the hardest time choosing just seven! Enjoy!)
“You shouldn’t have called us,” says my youngest, disappointed, as they head back downstairs.
Hawesome! A couple of them are even from my wishlist.
And they say Christmas is for the kids.
(Yes, that is my daughters’ purple Disney Princess tree in the background.)
Thank you, Ron. I will enjoy every last drop.
I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don’t believe I deserved my friends.
– Walt Whitman
