While making dinner and clearing clutter off of the counters, I glanced out the kitchen window. At the corner was a UPS truck.
Since I was a little girl the sight of that brown truck has quickened my pulse and brought a smile to my lips. Once I was acquainted with “The Music Man,” the lyrics, “The Wells Fargo Wagon is a-comin’ down the street. . .” would pop into my head at the sight of the ubiquitous brown truck. As I watched it most recently out my kitchen window I thought, “I loved getting packages in the mail. They make me happy.” Then I started thinking, “Why do packages make me happy? Is that what I want to make me happy?” When I was little the UPS was bringing me back a beloved doll that had to be sent away to be fixed. I couldn’t wait for her to come and play with me again. But today? Maybe it’s the element of surprise, the potential therein. I’d like to think I’m not excited to just get stuff for the sake of getting stuff.
What do you think? Do you like getting packages? Do they make you happy? Why?