"Fly upon the wings of anticipation... and then thud."

(If you know where that quote came from we are totally kindred spirits. hee hee). I bought some boots for my girlies on-line last week. It was really fun for the three of us to shop together and they loved picking out just what they wanted. (Hooray for clearance). Ever since I hit the final click on the mouse, they have been anxiously waiting for their order to arrive. As in, asking every day and every evening if "this was the day."

I tracked the boots and told the girls they would (probably) arrive today. Waiting for any sign of the the mail man was torture for them. We were playing outside when the shining white and blue striped chariot of promised packages rolled around the corner. I felt like busting into a verse of "Oh the Wells Fargo Wagon is a-Comin' Down." My seven-year-old followed every movement of that mailman with her eyes. I'm not sure her feet were touching the ground. My crowd began to gravitate toward the neighborhood mail box and the little white truck. The mailman finished his work and waved at the little crew as he accelerated PAST my house. "Oh the horror!" I felt so bad for them, but the look on Brooke's face was so dramatically tragic that I busted up laughing. I'm not sure they will ever forgive that mailman... at least until tomorrow when he comes bearing gifts.