It’s three p.m. I’m in my bedroom putting clothes back on after a quick afternoon shower to wash away the sweat, when I hear a knock at the door. It’s that rap, quick tap that is not the knock of a friend, but rather, someone on the move… it’s friendly, but not the kind of “visitor” knock that says, “I’m here to settle down and chat.” This was the knock that typically signals the deliveryman, the UPS man, in fact, who always comes in the afternoon. He usually just leaves the package inside of our door, right after the knock and moves on, waving, after I’ve opened the door, just to see his foot stepping onto the curb.
“Someone will get it,” I think to myself. The sounds outside of my door do match what are typical UPS deliveries… my little boy, who opened the door, says loudly, “Thank you!” as if every brown package that arrives on our doorstep is a “toy,” in his imagination.
When I’m dressed, I walk outside to meet the kids, and say, “Who was that.”
Look at that thoughtful expression….
“Oh, it was Nature Nick. He delivered us a toad.”
And the toad house building is underway…
Yes… I’m back where toads and frog deliveries are as common as the UPS man. And so far, no snakes…
