My daughter’s birthday is in five days. FIVE days. She didn’t ask for much, she never does. A unicorn sweater from the Gap, a pair of footed fleece pajamas, a microwaveable Warmie, and a rolling book bag. Weeks ago, ahead of the curve, I ordered them and one by one they arrived on my doorstep, compliments of the digital age and the American Postal Service. Well, they all arrived except for one, the book bag, the main gift.
For a week now I’ve been expecting the package; delayed, or so I thought, because I had requested that it be monogrammed with her initials. This morning, in a bit of a panic with no box in site, I checked my email for the transaction information hoping to locate where in the whole wide world my package is. I couldn’t find the email. Hmmm. So I searched the company’s website hoping to pull up my order information. No orders had been placed. Hmmm.
Then I spied it, in the inbox, waiting to be checked out, one item, the backpack. Mystery solved.
So today I’m thankful for next day shipping, even though it cost me an additional $17.00, because my little girl’s present will be here on her birthday. Parent fail averted.