Mr. Mailman

Isn't that the song? "O Mr. Mailman, won't you please blah blah blah?" Anyway, I have come to the realization that P has a unique hobby. It is sending certified mail. Maybe she is having a lurid affair with the postman, and has a fetish with stamps.

Without fail, almost every week since P was ordered back to MA, she has sent J a certified letter. Granted, they are all receipts for prescriptions, copays and the such. Very valid reasons. But it completely cracks me up that it must be certified, return receipt, need your thumb print to verify who you are to sign for this important correspondence. The one from today? He owes $42.50. It cost $5.38 to send. Ever heard of a scanner? OH THAT's RIGHT!! You don't HAVE your own computer because it is down in FLORIDA! Der, S. Der.

Anyway, that is today's little venitilicious observations.

Oh, on a side note? This is supposed to be our weekend with J Jr (since K won't come over because she is just SO MAD at J, but, of course, will never discuss it with him& even after he tries to initiate a conversation about the situation) and I am waiting with baited breath to see if he CHOOSES to come over since he hasn't come here since J &P brought him to a psychiatrist...and he won't come over because J won't let him play video games. I've been getting used to the quiet, not walking on egg shells, and actually spending the weekends at home doing things, not looking for any excuse to get out.