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Books, interesting books, like yummy little morsels keep coming at me. One I had ordered from Chapters for the vicar's book group arrived. Ones I ordered from Amazon.ca one night as a result of talking to Sleepy have been dispatched and a mystery parcel was waiting for me at the Post Office.
I know, because the P.O., who usually can be relied upon to leave it at the door, instead left me a delivery note in the mail box.

After work, clutching my note, I presented myself at the Post Office counter. I knew who the package was from, there was a clue.
In front of me, someone else was collecting a parcel.

'Can I see your photo I.D. please?' asked the assistant.
Uh-oh.
My turn.
'Photo I.D.?' I hand her my driver's licence.
'The last name on this is different.'
'Yes, I know,'
'So you are collecting it for someone else?'
'No, the parcel is for me, just that, well, that's....my husband's surname,'
'Well, do you have something with this name on?'
'No, but...but if you look at the parcel, it will have the same surname as mine on it, the parcel's from my son,'
She turns the parcel over.
Oh crap.
It's from Amazon.
She shakes her head.
'Huh.'
'Your son doesn't know your name?'
'No, yes, well, yes, he does, it's a kind of tease,'
'Tease?'
I realise that out of the two of us, I am the foreigner, but....I'm also the native English speaker,
'Sort of.... a joke,'
'A joke,'
'Yes, it's...a joke. Would it help if my husband came in with me?'
'Is his name Ms. J. D-F?'
'Well no, no,' - I avoid the 'of course not,', 'that would be me - if there were such a person, but, well he has the surname and I have the...initial. And the Ms.'
She looks at me. She looks at the parcel. She looks at the line behind me and hands me the package.
'Have a nice evening.'
'Thanks, you too.'
Hmm...