First Class

Last week, the girls and I went to the post office to mail a package.  As I was completing my transaction, the postal worker asked if I needed any stamps today.  I politely told her, “No,” but Sadie piped up and said, “I want a stamp, Mommy.  I want a sticker.” 

I told her that the post office didn’t have the right kind of stickers for her and we would get one at home.  The postal worker overheard and interjected with, “I have a whole assortment of stamps right here.  Would your girls like to choose one?”  She had about 20 different self-inking stamp pads that read everything from fragile to next day to hazardous. 

I said, “Sure.  Whichever one you choose is fine.” 

So, she handed me one that read FIRST CLASS.  Each of the girls stuck out her hand to receive a stamp. 

After putting them on, I handed the stamp back and said, “Okay, now you’re ready to go!  Let’s go stick you in the mailbox!” 

Sadie didn’t get it, but Morgan sure did!  She made quite a little scene at the post office!  She ran to the other side of the room (thank goodness it’s not very big!) screaming, “No!  Take it off!  I don’t want to go in the mailbox!  Don’t mail me, Mommy!” 

I quickly explained to her that I was teasing and showed her the letter slot on the wall, which she is clearly too big to fit in.  After realizing that she couldn’t be mailed because she wouldn’t fit, she was okay with the stamp on her hand.  But, she couldn’t scrub it off hard enough in the bath that night! 

Next time we go to the post office, I think I’ll leave Morgan at home!