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It seems as if every week there’s a new adventure. I’m tired of adventures, but this one? I especially did not like.
My subdivision has group mailboxes, which means a trip up the street to get my mail, and because they have parcel lockers, I can’t even get my packages brought to the door. (Aside: If I move again, it’s going to be to a house with a mailbox in the front yard. I’m over schlepping boxes from the group boxes to my home.)
Last month, I stopped with the car on my way home because I had a few packages to pick up. I was already irritated because I’d put in a request on USPS’s Informed Delivery to bring two of the boxes to the door. They were part of a subscribe‑and‑save delivery, and at least one of them was going to be heavy‑ish.
I’m muttering complaints as I get out of my car and walk to the boxes. I open mine, see something hanging, but assume it’s a piece of plastic. I grab the parcel locker key and reach back in for the one package that fit in my box. As I pull it out, my hand brushes that piece of plastic.
That’s when horror washes over me. That’s not a piece of plastic.
It’s a tiny dead frog hanging by one leg from the box above mine into mine.
And my hand brushed it. Ewww.
I never even looked at the thing hanging there, and I know there’s an issue with tiny frogs getting into the group boxes because I went up there one day last summer while the mail person had the unit open. A number of the lower boxes had amphibians trapped inside. “It happens all the time,” the mail carrier told me when I mentioned it.
I remember being grateful my box was near the top and that I’d never had a frog in my box.
Guess my lucky streak ended.