My Mailbox

I have a mailbox.  It is numbered "4," even though there doesn't seem to be any reason in the world for that particular number being assigned to my particular house.  I have a tortured relationship with that box these days.  Each day I wait until 5pm for the mail carrier to come.  Each day there is renewed hope that my mailbox will hold something precious in its little, rectangular space.  

Most days my hope is shattered, and I only get a bill or a "Vote For Me Because I Am the Super Bestest Candidate" or a sales flier for a store I will never enter. 

But I don't hold grudges (except against science teachers, but that's another story).  The next day I wake up with hope renewed.  Each day it is possible that this is the day that my box will not disappoint.  Until it does.  Again.

Ah, but Friday the 13th is a semi-glorious day for me and my mailbox.  I turned the shiny key and found a Oriental Trading Company catalog that I have to throw out before Basia decides she needs to own every single junky item ASAP.  I found a plea for my vote.  I found someone who really wants to help me invest the money that I do not have. 

But, wait.  There were two other envelopes!!  One was from Department of Homeland Security, and the other was from the local police department.  Those were both return addresses that I had been longing to see, and my mailbox finally delivered them to me. 

I think I will refrain from kissing said box for the time being, however. 

The letter from Homeland Security gave Jon his fingerprinting appointment, which is the next great step in our adoption process.  It's exciting, however, my mailbox did not give me MY appointment. 

1/2 isn't so bad, I guess. 

The letter from the police department contained the proof that I am not wanted for any crimes and that I do not have an arrest record.  That's an important document for our dossier.  That's exciting to receive, too, but my mailbox forgot to include JON'S identical letter. 

1/2 is certainly better than nothing, I suppose.

Tomorrow I will venture back out to my friend, the mailbox.  My expectations will be extra high.  I will smile and hold my breath just a bit.  I may remind the mailbox (in a sweet voice, of course) that I really cannot get any further in this adoption process until I receive the other two letters.  I have high hopes that we will be able to work things out.  Surely Saturday the 14th is our next lucky day.