<p>Mail arrived at 2:30. Dizzy-husband and I practically leaped into the poor mailman’s truck when he drove up…</p>
<p>Nothing!</p>
<p>Dizzy-son drove up moments later with friends, expecting the best or the worst. Another classmate had received an acceptance today, so he knew his would arrive too, except that it didn’t. We all looked at one another, thinking it could mean only one thing, the ugly “D” word.</p>
<p>We did what anyone’s parents would do, right? Drove to the post office and hung around, waiting to intercept our mailman when he returned from his route to ask what the explanation might be. Turned out he wouldn’t return for a few more hours, so Dizzy-husband drove me home and went back to the post office on his own. </p>
<p>When he approached our mailman, he was sitting in the truck, leafing through a stack of undelivered mail. Dizzy-husband was ALL over that! Might there have been a priority envelope for us? (Please, no small envelope, please!) Why, as a matter of fact, yes, here it is, in this stack of orphan mail that was probably going to be delivered, oh, sometime after New Year’s…</p>
<p>Dizzy-husband called Dizzy-son who by this time was in his room, more or less catatonically processing certain deferral. “I’m on my way home and I have an envelope.”</p>
<p>It was the right one.</p>
<p>Dizzy-son will be joining you in the class of 2009.</p>
<p>Congratulations to your son! And what a story to tell…</p>
<p>Send him the P-ton boards’ love! After following his saga (and the affectionate boasts of his mother ) for so long, I’m glad everything worked out for him.</p>
<p>congrats to dizzyson and to long-suffering dizzy-family. </p>
<p>“If mohammed refuses to cooperate and go to the mountain, then the mountain will have to go get the blasted bugger”: truer words were never spoken.</p>
<p>I thought our mail delivery story was bad, but yours takes the cake. Our mail comes at 3 PM every day. S told me not to call him on Monday, he’d call me…3:30…4… OK so I called twice…4:15… I figured he had gotten the mail and committed suicide… I left work early and got home at 4:40. S had gone to pick up his sister and…no mail!!! I called the post office they said, “The woman that does your street isnn’t back yet”" I said “The postman is a man!” They said, “No it’s a woman.” It’s dark ouside now 4:50…I decide to drive around the neighborhhod and hijack the first mail truck I see…4:55 our regular postMAN comes up the walk in the dark with a big white envelope…Today the mail arrived at 3:00.</p>
<p>I would have paid him $100 without blinking an eye. LOL! You should have heard Dizzy-husband’s story of following the mailman out of our neighborhood all the way to the post office, ‘cutting him off so he couldn’t escape’. He said the mailman actually was worried that he was going to be angry when it was discovered that the envelope had been in the truck the whole time…marked ‘priority’ of course. Au contraire – Dizzy-husband was too grateful at the moment to be upset. </p>
<p>Plus, mailman has been really nice to our dog over the years, so we have to cut him a break…</p>
<p>Hah I love the story! I left a note in the mailbox today for my mailman thanking him for a speedy delivery of a life changing envelope. He wrote back “congratulations, does this mean the end of all those college mailings?”</p>
) for so long, I’m glad everything worked out for him.</p>