After School Ritual

Every week day I meet son #2 at the bus stop after school.  Not because I need to, as he is old enough to walk home on his own, but rather because I want to.  While we walk home together, we talk about his day.  And, we stop at our mailbox.  Our town home doesn't have its own mailbox so we go to a central group of boxes.  It's a little weird, though, because even though there are two central boxes on our street, our particular mail box is on another street.  They didn't install enough on our street, I guess.  Duh.  (that's the post office for ya -- they're lame and I could write a whole separate blog about the several mistakes with packages that have happened in the past 10 days, but I won't because I don't really want to keep thinking about it)

I took these photos one day last week (before the latest snow storm) on our way home:

Ok, I can't resist.  I'll show you quick photos of two of the damaged packages that were delivered ... makes you wonder if the postal workers were playing catch with them or what ...

this one arrived with two side seams torn open and
2/3 of the contents of the shipment were missing

this package arrived rubber-banded since it was
completely torn apart
amazingly, the contents were ok
I was shocked

Really, how hard is it to process packages carefully, people?