Luckily for me, this was before work began for Andy, so he was in the car with Jordan while I did all of this. Not so lucky this week. ...
Fast forward to this week. I arrived at the post office, after putting Jordan into the stroller, and stuffing the stroller's undercarriage with envelopes and one box with six towels stuffed in, only to realize that they would not provide me with packaging tape (somehow the LA post offices always have a way around this!) unless I purchased it. Heck no! This was not a matter of simplicity, this was a matter of principle. And by all means, I stuck by it. Stubborn, I know. I left the post office, irate, telling the post office sir I would be back with my package sealed. I'm sure he got the last laugh that day.
Today, I returned, but smarter and wiser than before. My package was taped, and I even brought tape and scissors along into the car just in case I needed to tape more of my stuff together. I arrived with the envelopes tucked into the undercarriage, and the box, perfectly centered on top of the stroller leaning against the handle. I even brought two toys for Jordan this time to keep him preoccupied. I walked in with my head held high, so proud of my own preparations. And I even asked for another box to mail my mom a computer necklace she gave me (that I do not use) that she wants back. Thinking I was so smart for bringing tape (though I left it in the car), I advised Mr. Meany Mail Man that I'd be back shortly when he told me to have a great afternoon. I got to the car where I intended to use the tape, only to find there was prepackaged tape on the box. Wow. He got the last laugh.
I went back in, even made some small talk with the postmen, asking them why there were two cops with rifles and one with a sniffing dog and a bulletproof vest (in a small town, really?!). He said he didn't want to know why, but that everywhere in the world, there was bad stuff going on. That he was lucky to be in America. That he had traveled the world and seen much worse. And then, he told me and the other lady in line, that if we were in California, we'd have to take a ticket to wait for our place in line at the post office. I thought for a brief moment. "Really?" I asked him. "Not at the post offices I've been to," I told him, "and those were in California," I continued. In that glimmer of a proud moment, I felt bad, so I added, "but I was not in a big part of California," to which he responded, "Yes, they only make you get a ticket for post offices in big cities in California, but not here," he said so proudly. I wanted to be mean to him. Wanted to tell him I was from Los Angeles and that was indeed a big city, but in that moment, I felt bad for being so prideful. For wanting to be right even when I was wrong for a) not bringing my own tape the first time, and b) not realizing there was already a sticky edge on the box I got there. But that was not the time. Another time I suppose.
And yes, I am still wondering why there were three cops, two LARGE snipers (I think, they were big!), a bulletproof vest, and a police dog.
That was my eventful post office incident.
Also, today was the first time I had a weekly call while being on Jordan duty by myself since he's become so mobile and interested in life. Solution? Goldfishies with Sesame Street. Halfway through the call, he walked on over, grabbed my earphones, and would not let go. I sacrificed 'em and did the rest of the call via speakerphone (on mute until my turn of course), and he had a ball with the earphones for the remainder of the call.