It is there on the doormat on my return.
A parcel!!! I rip it open eagerly. The contents are unexpected. I study the advice slip carefully.
It has been ordered and paid for by us. It must be from the LTLP. The LTLP has sent me a present!!! This is good, as she has been a bit eye-rolly with me recently, for one reason or another.
I settle down with my new present.
“Thank you for my present – it arrived safely,” I tell the LTLP, when she arrives home later.
She looks confused. “What present?” she demands.
I show her my present. She denies all knowledge of the present. I show her the advice slip that clearly demonstrates that one of us has placed the order, therefore proving present status.
“Are you sure you didn’t order this yourself?” she says. “On Friday, when you were pissed?”
I think for a minute.
“I could have done, I suppose,” I admit.
“Oh great,” she replies. “I’ll just wait for loads of vintage signage and second hand computer magazines to arrive now.”
I am disappointed. “I really thought you’d sent me a present,” I complain.
“No,” she explains. “A present would be something that I had ordered and got sent to you. This is ‘something that you ordered yourself when you were pissed.’ That is not a present.”
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