A few years ago, my mother Micheley sent my brother Desmond a birthday present right around, possibly even on my birthday, February 9th versus his of March 10th. He sent me an email letting me know he got a present for my birthday and that he was enjoying it immensely. I can't remember what it was, but it was actually something halfway decent. And so it goes. Micheley has moments where she remembers she has children. Though I'm not sure she can keep us straight even though I'm her only daughter, last one born, and she hasn't spoken to her eldest child in 19 years. It seems like she should be able to get it right.
Shortly before my 43rd birthday at the end of January, I got the mail and found there was a birthday card (2 weeks early!) from my mom and "dad" which means Dick, my adopted dad, had nothing to do with it since he never calls himself dad. The card was actually cute and sweet about embracing who I am, yada yada yada and adages about having a wonderful year, and in the card signed from "mom and dad" there's a hot twenty spot. That's right, a crisp $20 bill. Thank you very much! I kind of snicker for a minute, then promptly dust the cobwebs from my wallet and stash it in there, since money is money and at the time I was underemployed. Bring on the ramen.
And since I was marginally unemployed and can barely scrape together enough pennies to eat, I checked the front door for the daily barrage of packages I get from Amazon. If Amazon has it, be sure that I buy it from them. Cat litter, face cream, paper towels, etc. I see there is a little village of goodies by the mailboxes so I skip down the walkway to grab my goods. And there, addressed in Micheley's handwriting with a return address of Waterford, CT is a box. Brown paper package tied up with string. (Minus the string.) Huh... Card and present separate?
Back in the safety of my home (think of a squirrel grabbing some nuts, making a dash, looking both ways, then scurrying up a tree) I toss aside my amazon boxes and set myself at the kitchen counter to unwrap the package from the woman who birthed me. I get it open and it's a Lucky Brand shoe box. I open it and there's a pair of ankle booties. Not atrocious, but pretty vanilla so I probably won't wear them. But really a valiant effort! Lest this sounds too normal and you wonder why I am the way I am, there, nestled in between the footwear is a white Victoria's Secret bra. Lightly worn and not in my size, refrain from your jokes. I watch a lot of Forensic Files. You can tell it's cradled boobies because the underwire between the titties isn't pure like snow. My mind tries to make sense of the situation, so I run through a few scenarios:
- Micheley sent the card and then felt like $20 was inappropriate for a soon to be 43 year old so she packaged up some boots Dick got her for her Birthday back in December at Macy's. (I noted the return sticker on the side, scanned it; these boots are not available in CA). She found a bra around the house and thought maybe it was mine from the last time I spent the night with them, 15 years ago. Was relieved she finally had a means to return the bra that was taking up space in the house.
- Micheley bought me the boots but wasn't sure I'd like the them so tossed a bra in there as good will. The next day, she realized she forgot to put the card inside the box (the box and card came on the same day, and packages usually take longer to arrive than standard mail) so she threw $20 in to make up for the fact that the bra was mildly used.
- The boots were from last year, a gift to a nice girl in her senior year at Waterford High from her aunt Elaine who bought them at the Crystal Mall. Carol never wore them (that's the niece's name) so they ended up at a thrift store. Micheley got them there, as well as the bra (it was merely gently used) which was actually for her. She had put it in the box for safe carry to the car so that it wouldn't fall to the ground and get further soiled. She forgot to take it out before sending the shoes.
- The box was open, Micheley was doing cartwheels over it, her bra fell off, into the VERY box she was sending me. The next day, distraught over the missing bra, she incorrectly surmised she had yet to get me a present and swiped $20 from Dick's wallet and put into a card for me, signing "dad" as a way to give him credit for the funds. She dropped it in a blue box on the way to the Mall de Crystal to hit up Vicky's Secret.
There were a few more play-by-plays I ran by LAPD investigation, (haven't gotten a call back) but either way, I got twenty bucks for Ramen.
After I opened the present, my internal monologue was, "Maeve, you must take care of this situation before Dain" (my boyfriend) "gets home. He won't understand." But instead I called my best friend Erika, we laughed about it for 45 minutes and I greeted Dain at the door with the story. He keeps asking when he gets to meet Micheley.
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