It was the original version of You Have Mail - a parchment colored piece of paper stuck in the front door. The mail carrier was sorry that he had not found us at home. There was a piece of mail that needed to be signed for. The item could now be picked up at the post office the following day.
Once inside the house, I dropped the notice on the dining room table where it was quickly spotted by Media Girl. Wonder of wonders the notice was actually for Media Girl.
"What could it be?" Media Girl wondered aloud.
And then the barrage of questions started: What time does the post office open? Can we go first thing in the morning? Can you think of what it might be?
Was Media Girl actually asking Determined Dad if they could head for the post office at the crack of dawn?
Obviously Media Girl had forgotten the teenage commandment of thou shall sleep on Saturdays.
I awoke Saturday morning to find the nap in the carpet outside my bedroom door had been flattened by Media Girl's relentless pacing. Her anticipation level was off the charts.
And I realized I had discovered a new source of power - a way to mess with Media Girl's head when I get the urge. I'll send her a piece of mail - and I'll send it registered / return receipt. If I time it right, it could be days before we can to the post office during regular business hours.
Media Girl will go absolutely crazy with anticipation.
