letters to my roo

Sitting awake with you at 2am with you asleep on my chest is prime time for online shopping. I’d say don’t tell your father, but he’s well and truly aware.

Today, AusPost decided that the parcels shouldn’t be left at the front door (standard) but needed to be left at the post office. We were out, you and I, having adult conversation. I was, in any case; you were beaming happily at everyone who was commenting on how stinking cute you are (true) and how big you are (also true). But that meant the parcels were left at the post office.

So we drove home from our outing, Mercedes Sosa playing until you decided you didn’t fully hate the car seat. We drove up the driveway where I laid in the front seat while you napped in the back seat. And then I decided we should probably go to the post office because your dad wouldn’t finish work til 5 and I wanted my parcels.

This is my explanation to you. This is why you woke up from your nap, dazed and confused, in a post office. This is why we are now sitting in a car park near said post office while you tearfully feed, and while I nervously watch two men outside who are each threatening to fight each other.

Maybe online shopping isn’t my best hobby at 2am.