Yes, it was that fabulous man in brown dropping off a big brown box. Dave and I ran to the door, and dang-it, he beat me there. He scooped up that cardboard coffer and brought it in. Me? I was dancing around him saying, "It's mine, it's mine!!!" Now, we all know the rules of such things, right? The person specified on the label is the only person allowed to open the package. It's definitely one of the laws of etiquette...do doubt.
Dave moved his fingers to make the first opening tear.
Me: "Did you order anything?"
Dave: "No."
Me: "Well I did! It's mine!" (He looked at the label...finally...)
Dave: "Well, I hadn't established that yet."
Me: "What are you, the anti-establishment?"
Ya, I know it wasn't funny, but it distracted him just enough to allow me to reclaim what was mine. I took a knife, slit that tape, and pulled out two pairs of very practical, very comfortable, very Kali shoes. This mama gots magic shoes. They're gonna take me anywhere.
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