enter the package

I mean, in terms of Bruce Lee meeting the USPS...I am a 9th degree black belt when it comes to gift picking, packaging and sending. I concede only to my eldest offspring, who has surpassed the Mastah and does things even Emily Post would drop her knickers over. She has a roman candle imagination and I absolutely love getting an original card and gift concept-it never fails to delight. However, I can hold my own in the best match of bubble wrap, strapping tape, boxes and the hand-picked goodies. In fact it is dishonorable to have to buy a box that fits. The true martial wrapping artist can fill a space with the most disparate and oddly matched items in a way that they will not rattle, shake, bust, rust or collect dust, AND, all in a pre-existing box.

So today...cue the bad 70's ninja movie music...I entered the package. My mission began early in the morning, the jeep running on vapors, our bank account in the red. It is Friday, banking day, and before my mission could be accomplished, I needed money and gas. I had selected my box carefully-actually a pair of boxes, and one was partially filled, expertly I might add. Yet I needed a few more items to balance the load. The other item I had needed a frame, so that was also on the list. I hurried to the bank and then the gas station, but not before a quick stop to the church to pick our worship list and practice. On the way out I noticed a huge truck attempting to back into a lot adjoining the church, and my jeep was in the way. I moved it and zoomed to the gas station, realizing only after I was there that my purse was missing. I decided it must have been snatched by the smarmy looking man with a white mustache who was walking up the street in front of the church. The cad! In front of a church! So I zoomed back, practically eating the bumper of the old lady in front of me, thinking the thief was happily throwing credit cards around and trying to get free medical exams. My mission was already in jeopardy, so I quickly parked and found that my purse was safely resting on a chair in the church santuary.

Sigh...it was on to the mall and gourmet food store to find the necessary items to fit my box. I threw in a magazine for good measure and made my way home. The road block that stopped me on the way out also stopped me on the way in, and when I got home I realized my other younger offspring had used up all the strapping tape. GRRRR!!! Every time I wrap a package I have to buy tape. But I decided if I was truly skilled I could get by with scotch for the inside stuff. The sweat was pouring as I assembled the frame and bubble wrapped that item. The bubble wrap attempted to trick me by hiding it's perforations, but I found them. I always find them. Then it was the entire assemblage after the individual pieces were put together. HA-the final strike! No box can resist my craftiness. And now, to check the size and weight...acceptable, though bulky, but nothing moved inside.

Now I must steal my way back outside and to the post office to the honorable worker bees sending boxes to all parts of the world. The final test of my great ability is here, at the postal scale. Once again, acceptable for the items enclosed. How I look with a sneering countenance upon other postal customers who do not understand international mailing...they can't even fill out an Express Delivery. But one day, they will know the importance of such skills. And I await the pleasure of the the recepient of my box, the true test of my art. My mission, for now, is accomplished.