My loving wife used to have The New York Times delivered to our house on weekends. The delivery was a gift to me. But it was expensive, and we simply couldn't afford it after I gave up my job to become a stay-at-home dad.
I've missed the paper (it always helped me slow down and enjoy my weekends just a little more), but I've gotten along just fine without it.
Then it popped back into my life recently.
On two recent Saturday mornings, The New York Times was waiting at the bottom of our driveway. Then it showed up again this Sunday.
I started suspected somebody had renewed our subscription as a Christmas present.
But so far, the top suspects for such an act of kindness have said they didn't do it (at least they haven't fessed up).
So I've been left wondering why I'm getting the paper again.
I've missed the paper (it always helped me slow down and enjoy my weekends just a little more), but I've gotten along just fine without it.
Then it popped back into my life recently.
On two recent Saturday mornings, The New York Times was waiting at the bottom of our driveway. Then it showed up again this Sunday.
I started suspected somebody had renewed our subscription as a Christmas present.
But so far, the top suspects for such an act of kindness have said they didn't do it (at least they haven't fessed up).
So I've been left wondering why I'm getting the paper again.
- Could it be a peace offering from the house elf who abandoned me?
- Or is the missing house elf letting me have a taste of the old life before ripping the paper out from under me?
- Or could it be the much more boring theory pushed by my wife: that the paper is being delivered to our house by mistake?
- My mom (Suspect No. 1) thinks Santa is rewarding me for being a good boy.
- Is it a present from Willow?
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