|Warrior needs medicine. Badly
||[Jan. 13th, 2010|01:03 pm]
I have braved the wilds of Rocky River and successfully taken all Christmas gifts to be returned to the post office. I even stopped and got milk on the way back.|
This is a more impressive accomplishment when you stop to consider that I still feel like deep-fried death. I was so impressed with my success in walking all the way through the local Aldi's that I'm sort of pissed I didn't level up and gain new skills.
Three packages went out today. The first was not technically a return: Amy accidentally had her dad's Christmas present sent here from Amazon, so I had to forward it. Since I'd opened the box, I tucked her remaining detritus from her last visit in with his book, then carefully addressed it to her so that her dad wouldn't wonder why I was mailing him stray socks.
Package 2 was Seasons 1-5 of Mythbusters. The Ferrett-mom and I, both being women of incredible intelligence and excellent taste, managed to each buy Ferrett the exact same present. I cleverly managed this duplication by getting Ferrett to open the copies of them from me first, but then keeping the copies from her. Alas, Discovery.com allows for exchanges or refunds, not credits, so Ferrett can't just order other goodies from there. Bad planning, Discovery.
Package 3 was returning a t-shirt which was ordered in a "women's extra-large." When Ferrett held up the t-shirt, I told him they must have sent a children's size by mistake. If this is their idea of what constitutes an extra-large woman, I am frightened to imagine their idea of "medium." Karen Carpenter would struggle to get into this t-shirt. The cute would be perfect for a gangly 11-year-old boy. If Poppy Z. Brite is an extra-large person, I'll eat my hat, but this t-shirt looked about right for him. Reality-check is not forthcoming.
So off they went, clearing off my sewing table and getting one more chore out of the way. Back to curling up on the couch staring vacantly into space for me.