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Writing Prompt: Christmas

Waiting Game

There was only one person standing in the way of me checking off that final box on my Christmas to-do list.

The UPS Man.

I’ve been following that tracker since the email was sent to me that my order had been shipped! Excitedly, I clicked the tracker and saw it was coming from across the country and it hasn’t even left the seller’s location. There was no way it was going to get here in two days… so much for paying for express shipping.

I casually checked the tracking to see where it was every night. Then… the dreadful thing happened, it got transferred to USPS. Now… I’d have to wait for the mailman.

Don’t get me wrong, my mailman was the bomb, but he was super slow. And whenever I had a package delivered to me he would take extra long to bring it to my doorstep. There were a few times where I met him at my mailbox – expecting my package – and he still took a long time to get it to me from his truck.

It was supposed to come today. But it was snowing outside – of all the luck – and my beloved mailman was late today.

There was a week left until Christmas, but I loved having everything together to look at so I could make sure I got everyone something. I needed to make sure the kids at least were taken care of. This package I was waiting for was the last gift I was getting on Wesley’s list.

I sat there on my couch, looking out the window and waiting patiently for the mailman. My kids were home from school today so I had to race against them so they wouldn’t see where the package was coming from. Luckily, they were distracted by one of their video games that I couldn’t understand how to play.

How did kids get smarter than us with technology?

Finally my mailman came pulling up to my mailbox so I quickly slipped out of the living room without the kids noticing and threw on my knock-off UGGs and wrapped myself with my jacket before running outside.

I didn’t want to make it seem like I was desperate to get the package so I just smiled as he was getting out of his truck. “Such crappy weather we’re having, today, isn’t it?”

I didn’t know why I was talking about the weather, but I needed an excuse to meet him at the mailbox.

“I don’t suppose you have a package in there for me.” I smiled, again.

The mailman grunted as he was digging through the back. “Yeah, sure do. Christmas gift?”

“Yeah, my boys are inside so I’m trying not to let them see.” I said, truthfully. I also just wanted to be done with my to-do list and crossing off WESLEY’S CHRISTMAS LIST would be cathartic.

The mailman pulled out a small box from his truck and handed it over to me. It was a lot smaller than I expected it to be. I thought I bought a 3,000+ pieces Star Wars Imperial Star Destroyer. It shouldn’t have been this tiny.

“Is that it? I was expecting something a bit bigger than this…” I asked, hoping maybe this was a gift from one of my family members.

“Nope. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow.” The mailman shrugged as he handed me my other mail also known as my bills.

I felt like throwing a tantrum, but I decided to let it go. This man had to drive with no heat in 28-degree weather. I turned around with my tail tucked between my legs and scurried back inside. I looked at the return address from the package and it wasn’t from the company I had purchased my Lego set from.

I checked my tracking online and it said it was still in local post office processing center.


I opened the small package and it was two items gift wrapped with a note from my Great Aunt Martha.

“To my favorite great grand-nephews. Love, Aunt Martha.”

I used to be her favorite grand-niece. I chuckled to myself and put the gifts under the tree.

“Is that a present?” Liam, my oldest, asked; his game was in intermission.

“Yeah, it’s from Great Aunt Martha, but you can’t open it until Christmas Eve.”

“Aw man!” Nate whined, but they both soon got over it when the game came back on.

I loved my boys, but man were they easily distracted. Maybe I didn’t have to do the hiding packages thing with them now that they were older. All I had to do would be to tell them to play a video game for an hour.

That night, I sat up in my bed while my husband was sleeping, stared at the tiny screen on my phone and checked the tracking. “Expected delivery: Tomorrow by 8pm.”

And the waiting game continued.

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