*Snoopy in: You're a Good Man Charlie BrownI parked my bike, hung my coat and scarf and carried the box into the kitchen.
With the dinner hour approaching soon, I made a quick perusal of the stock in the pantry and freezer and selected a menu. I pulled a pot from the cupboard under the sink, measured the water and placed it on the stove top. Once I had lit the flame and set the rice water to boil, I turned my attention to the parcel sitting on the floor.
I must first preface this by saying that my sister, who lives in Salt Lake City, is very, very, good to us. It is not an uncommon practice for her to throw a care package together and send some bits of the U.S. to us via the post. It is always a treat, and it always, always brings rather large smiles to the faces of all residents in this house when an Aunt Mindy box arrives.
Cracking the top seal, I peeled back the flaps of cardboard and peeked inside. Then I snorted.
It was a giggle, which rose so quickly from my belly, it flew through my chest and came barrelling out my nose in a definitive hmphahaacht! Great sound that.
Checking carefully to be certain I hadn't blown snot across the packing peanuts, I reached up behind me and turned off the heat on the stove. Dinner plans had just changed.
With speed and precision, I set the table, then carried the contents of the box to the dining room and placed it all on the table.
After that I called the kids to supper.
Emma was busy on the computer multi-tasking like only a pre-teen can with an IM screen open, her Ipod blasting and an episode of "Friends" playing in the background. Ian was upstairs, deeply engaged in the last of the Philip Pullman trilogy and he actually groaned when I called him down to dinner (he has loved this book series!) He continued to grumble as he sauntered down two flights of stairs, but immediately fell silent when he laid his eyes on the table.
First he saw this:
Then he grabbed the walls of the door frame and gasped.
Then he did a happy dance. (Snoopy's got nothin' on this kid, let me tell you.)
Before we sat down at the table we called my sister to shout a ginormous thanks through the phone line. Then we tucked into that massive sugar overload sent from across the pond. We laughed and talked, and sang a little thank you song as we ate.
Boy, do we ever love Suppertime!