You've Got Male

There had obviously been a lapse in the bedtime proceedings for I suddenly found myself in the presence of a five-year-old, bent over, naked, with buns waving in the air.  The singsongy voice proclaimed,

"Oh, Da-ddy...you've got mail."

Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.[1]  But God, please, could you let them skip my house?  This is one delivery that I'm certain I could live without or, at least, I could try.

- 11 January 2006

[1] National Postal Museum: FAQs