I love getting the mail. Watching the neighbors little red flags to see if they've gone down, finding the nearest pair of shoes to slip on so I can shuffle down the driveway, (The nearest pair is often men's size 12 so there is a lot of shuffling) holding my breath while opening that little door, and BAM, a little present just for me...or the Mr...or the people that used to live here...or 'our neighbor at,' but you get the idea. Sure, sometimes its just junk, but the thrill of not knowing what I'm going to find each day keeps me going back for more.
Fridays are the best because that is when my PEOPLE magazine arrives. I can always count on that. Except when I can't, because sometimes it mysteriously doesn't show up until Saturday or (gasp!) MONDAY. That really throws my weekend off.
Yep, the mail is one of those little things that may not seem like a big deal, but brings just a little joy every Monday thru Saturday.
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