A rustling at the front door alerted Jeff that the mail had arrived. He leaped from his easy chair in the living room and bounded down the hall. Tossing open the door, he investigated the contents of the mailbox. His heart dropped.
More Christmas fliers.
“Did it come?” asked Agatha, from the kitchen.
“No,” grumbled Jeff. “My package still hasn’t arrived.”
“It should be here any day now,” consoled Agatha.
“You know,” said Jeff, dropping the contents of the day’s post in the recycling bin. “I’m the only one in this house without a Christmas present.”
Agatha smiled. “You’re worse than the kids.”
“I’m just stating the obvious.”
“If you wanted it quicker, you should’ve let me pay for express post,” said Agatha.
“Why pay extra? All it has to do is be here by Christmas,” said Jeff.
“Then why are you driving yourself crazy? Be patient,” said Agatha.
“Because my gift is out there somewhere in the big wide scary world. It needs to be safe and warm under the tree,” lamented Jeff.
Agatha examined her husband carefully. “You do realize how crazy you sound?”
“It’s Christmas,” complained Jeff.
“As if that’s an excuse.”
“It’s all I got.”
“It’ll get here when it gets here. You can’t make it come any faster by pacing the floor. A watched pot never boils, you know.”
“I don’t want a pot of boiling water for Christmas,” grumbled Jeff.
“It’s funny you say that. In some places in the world, clean water isn’t just a gift, it’s a life saver,” said Agatha.
She was met with a stern glare. “Thanks for the guilt trip.”
Agatha smiled. “Now you know the true meaning of Christmas.”