Postal Terror

Our mailman - He puts up with a lot.

We first realized the extent to which he suffers when we had a house full of college kids we know who were home over Christmas break. As we talked in the living room, Emery suddenly stood straight up, much like a dog responding to a dog whistle, and said, "Oh! It is time to go scare the mailman!" We all stared in confusion as we watched her run to the row of bushes by the side of the driveway and crouch down. We all crowded around the window and saw the mail truck slowly pass her and stop by the mailbox just past our driveway. As the mailman focused on gathering envelopes with our address on them, Emery snuck quietly and crouched just below the window in his door. He reached to open the mailbox, and Emery struck. She jumped up, screamed, and contorted her face into something monstrous.

From inside the house we heard the terrified postal shriek and watched mail fly around inside the truck.

Everyone in the house laughed until they cried as I tried to decide if I was embarrassed or impressed.

I was unloading groceries from the back of my Jeep when I heard the familiar shriek again. I considered crawling into the back of the jeep and hiding, but I faced the music and turned around. I was surprised to see the mailman laughing and chatting in a friendly manner to my scary daughter.

"Everyday I remind myself that this is the street where that sweet little girl scares me, but I am never prepared for her. She gets me every time!" he told me as he drove away.

"How often do you scare him?" I asked.
"Well," she explained, "I don't want to do it everyday because then he would grow used to it and it would stop scaring him."

I think I am impressed.