Please Mr. Postman
Look and see.
Is there a letter?
A letter for me?
The following is a paraphrased email conversation, that took place this week, between me and my southern belle sister.
Me: Hello Newman. What's up?
Kiki: Not much.
Me: Is it hot there?
Kiki: It's always hot in Georgia.
Me: Got any plans for the weekend?
Kiki: Well, Judy is fixin' to come over and help me put our new mailbox on the post.
Me: You have a new mailbox?
Kiki: Yes. Judy gave it to Tram for his birthday.
Me: Oh, that's right. It was his birthday last week.
Kiki: It's real pretty.
Me: Why doesn't Tram put it on your post?
Kiki: He works real hard and he is always so tired by the time the weekend gets here.
Me: He's too tired to put a mailbox on a post?
Kiki: We could use a new post too. But I don't think that's going to happen.
Me: No. I kind of doubt it.
Kiki: He did put the numbers on it though. It looks real nice.
Me: That's a start.
Kiki: I just hold the mailbox up for the lady.
Me: What lady?
Kiki: The mail lady. I can hear her coming down the street, so I take the mailbox out there and I hold it up for her to put my mail in it.
Kiki: Yeah. She told me that I could just set it on the post until we get it attached and she would try to remember which one it is, so that she doesn't knock it off.
Me: You do know that she knows which one is yours, right?
Kiki: I would think so, by now.
Me: You must be her favorite mailbox.
Me: She probably doesn't have too many that talk.
Kiki: Well, she did tell me that she has seen some interesting mailboxes in her time and that I am the MOST interesting one that she has ever seen.