Sunday, September 28, 2008

So my mom comes into the house yesterday morning and hands me a padded envelope. "You got giant microbes in the mail!" she says brightly.

I look at the envelope. Sure enough, the return address says "Giant Microbes". Huh.

I tear it open and peek inside to see an unidentifiable yellowish lump. I don't really want to touch it, but I pull it out gingerly. Well, would you look at that. It's... a stuffed bookworm. Isn't that... nice.

I look back inside the envelope. No note. Just the stuffed bookworm.

My mom says, "Do you think your mother-in-law could have sent it to you?"

I say, "No, I really can't imagine anyone but Mr. and Mrs. Peculiar sending me something like this."

Then I notice the invoice taped to the front of the envelope. Yes, my dear, thoughtful friends have sent me a birthday gift. Isn't that... nice.

In a later email Peculiar blames Mrs, and says I should be thankful they chose the bookworm and not one of the other options. Again I say, Huh.