This morning with a cup of coffee in hand, and my husband scrolling through his phone ignoring me, I turned on the morning news to hear the following: 2 passengers aboard the cruise ship MV Hondius have now died, due to the deadly virus aboard the cruise ship. That virus, called Hantavirus, is now known to be caused by rodent droppings that passengers had apparently come into contact with while off on excursions, bringing the nasty stuff back on board with them.
This news ties in with the recent blog I’ve been working on. How, you might ask? Read on.
This past winter, right around Christmas, I saw one of those cute little signs you put next to a bowl of treats for delivery drivers. A sweet little “Thanks for stopping! Have a cookie on us,” moment of holiday cheer.
If anyone owes their drivers a treat, it’s the Tan’s. Technically, I know it’s their job. It’s what they do. But 3 deliveries in one day? At this point we could justify having our own personal Amazon driver. Full-time. With benefits. Maybe even a holiday bonus.
I know, I know – I shouldn’t feel guilty that the Amazon drivers make several trips a day up our driveway. We’re supporting the economy. But I do. And this winter, that well-intended holiday bonus I wanted to extend to our drivers, could have ended in disaster.
I bought one of those cute signs thanking our drivers. I put a bowl with about a dozen chocolate chip cookies inside. I set the cute sign on top and patted myself on the back, proud of myself for doing a little something extra to show our appreciation.
What I did not know is that when you leave fresh cookies outside in the winter, wrapped in cellophane like a Hallmark commercial, you need to bring them in at night. I learned this the hard way.
One morning I noticed the cookie supply was low, so I added a few more. The next day, a few more. Then I forgot about them… for a day or two.
A few days later when I lifted the “Enjoy a Treat” sign off the top of the bowl, I was mortified.
My cookie bowl had been playing host to an unauthorized after-hours party. A discovery that confirmed I had accidentally opened a rodent-run bakery. Why was I surprised? The sign didn’t even cover the entire opening of the bowl. Sheesh!
I actually thought about waiting until next winter to write this blog – maybe it could serve as a public service announcement. But I have a feeling I’m the only idiot who would ever do this, so what the heck.
In that moment of removing the sign, I was no longer the sweet lady offering warm holiday cheer. I was the woman handing out chocolate chip cookies lightly coated with mouse pee and poop.
The embarrassment. The horror. The immediate desire to enter the Witness Protection Program.
I’m praying the drivers either didn’t take a cookie… or at least had a good laugh before tossing it into the nearest snowbank. My execution was… let’s just say, not Martha Stewart cookie-handling protocol approved.
And no, I’m not putting out a sign that says, “Dear Amazon Driver, if you picked up a cookie last week, please accept my heartfelt apology for the mouse-piss glazing.”
So, I’ll just say lesson learned. Next time (if there is one), cookies come in at night, fresh ones go out in the morning, and the mice go find their own Amazon Prime subscription.
Speaking of Amazon…
I seriously don’t know what we’d do without it. Amazon is basically a member of our household at this point. A very punctual, very reliable, very non-judgmental member.
We even have a 4’ x 6’ sign posted out by the generator – partly to cover the ugly plywood that’s covering the electrical workings for our generator, that says, “Go Away. Unless you have amazon packages, merlot, or tacos.”
It’s been fun watching cars slow down just to read it. Half of the county now knows our stance on tacos.
A lot of people don’t like Jeff Bezos. Sure, he has more money than he could spend in a lifetime. So what? In my opinion, and my husband’s, he deserves it. He gave us the ability to wait until 3 days before Christmas to come up with gift ideas and have them arrive on time. Sometimes, the item arrives the very next day.
And what a fun surprise when I go to check out and Amazon says, “Oh, don’t worry, this one’s free – you’ve accumulated enough points to buy a small country.” All joking aside, those points matter.
I’m willing to bet to all those naysayers who dislike Bezos, they have at least one box laying around with the Prime logo on it. Probably two. Maybe three if they’re honest.
Amazon is a staple. A necessity. A convenience. A lifestyle.
It also brings my husband more joy than Christmas morning. Every day he comes home, sees a package, and says, “I don’t remember what I ordered…” I roll my eyes, but only because I’m guilty of the same exact thing. Then the box is opened to hear the, “Oh yeh, that’s right.” Obviously, it was something we couldn’t live without… NOT!
Grab your favorite drink and join me in a toast:
Here’s to the Amazon drivers who know our driveway better than our relatives, to the packages we forgot we ordered, and to the cookies that will never again be seasoned by wildlife.
May our deliveries be fast, our points be plentiful, and our Merlot-and-taco bearing solicitors find us soon.
