Mail Call...

I remember when I was kid, we used to get so excited to get the mail for our mom.  It seems ridiculous, but that is what childhood is, finding pleasure in the simplest of tasks.  My brothers and sisters and I would run up the stairs (yes, up...we lived on the downhill slope of a mountain) to the mailbox.  The first one to reach the mailbox would use his or her body to block the others from being able to open it.  With his chest pressed against the box, he would slide one hand up and open the box just enough to allow his other hand to enter from the small gap.  The hand grabbing the mail would be tightly pressed between the mailbox and his body.  He would have to grab the mail quickly, before anyone else the chance to reach a hand in and take it out from under him (which did happen since the metal door on the mailbox opens symmetrically).  The excitement of this task was always heightened if we were able to have the mail handed directly to us from the mailman himself.  We had a good mailman and he would split the mail between the children that were waiting as much as possible so that we could all participate.  

I have to admit, I don't love getting the mail anymore.  In fact, when D asks me to go get the mail I kind of roll my eyes and sulk away to the place where the bills are delivered.  Every time I get mail it is from people who either want money from me, or people who want me to apply to get money from them so that they can get even more money from me in the end.  I don't even like getting mail on my birthday, who wants to get a bill on their birthday?  However, the tradition and excitement continues.  Our boys find great pleasure in getting the mail.  Olie actually called me on the 4th of July to make sure that I didn't get the mail without him.  As soon as we had arrived home from a days activities (the parade was only the start) he and D trekked about collecting the flags that the Boy Scouts had placed in yards that morning.  Olie asked me not to send someone else to get the mail, he wanted to be able to do it when he got home...now that is dedication.  When I reminded him that we didn't get mail on holidays, he was slightly disappointed.  It got me thinking though, getting the mail is a completely different experience these days.  There is no meeting the mailman at the curb and having the mail hand-delivered to you.  There isn't even a mailbox at our curb.  Our mailbox is a "community box" halfway down the street.  Even if we were to meet the mailman there, he doesn't know us, so he wouldn't just hand over our mail.  We would have to stand there and watch him put the mail in our "box" and then lock the "box" back up so that we can unlock the box that he just locked and remove the mail that we just watched him put in there. It is similar to hiding a toy from a toddler in your hand, but the toy is slightly too big to be completely hidden so when you ask them what hand it is in, if they guess wrong you start to worry about their intelligence level.  That is what the joy of getting the mail has come to.  Although, I am no longer excited about getting the mail, our children still are.   For the last 2 weeks that the boys have been with us, Olie asked me everyday if he could go get the mail.  He was thrilled when our next door neighbors went on vacation and he was able to get the mail for both us and them.  Double the fun!  One day he returned with only 1 pile of mail and announced that since ours was just "junk mail" he didn't worry about keeping it separated.  I was very tempted to just throw the double stack of coupons in the neighbors pile, but I like them, so I separated them and threw my own away.  During this 2 weeks, it was also brought to my attention that the boys realize the thrill of mail leaves as you get older.  What a sad reality for a child...  Olie came back from retrieving the mail one day and announced that "there were no bills!"  He quickly grinned and followed up with, "Do I get a treat for that, for not bringing back any bills?"  What a kid won't do for some candy...truth is, if he could repeat the task daily (without disposing of anything along the way) I would buy him a freaking candy store!  I do have to admit though, that I feel kind of sorry for the boys.  They will never get to experience the race to the mailbox with the anticipation of being first and receiving the award of retrieving the mail that their parents don't want.  They know who will get to open the mailbox...the one who has the key.

As I was pondering what getting the mail has become, I also started to question what else this new system of mail security was affecting...so, as we were standing in our driveway one afternoon I asked.  "Do you know what our address is?  If you were lost, where would you tell someone you lived?"  Moo just said that he didn't know.  Skater shrugged his shoulders and told me that they were only there sometimes, so he didn't know either.  Olie looked at the address block attached to the front of our house and read it aloud to me.  At least he knew where to find it.  I honestly started to feel guilt about being such a horrible parent that I hadn't taught our boys their address, even if it was just their every other weekend home.  So, I asked them, "Do you know your address at your mom's home?"  Skater proudly rolled his eyes as if questioning why I would even ask such a ridiculous question...of course he did, "P.O. Box..."  I pray that they never get lost!