A Very Long Story with a Very Short Ending (or: Cancel the DNA Exam!)

I had to wait until after Christmas to post this since it was related to a good friend's Christmas gift from her parents and husband . . . so pretend like you are reading this 3 weeks ago.

6:00 p.m. Got home from work to find a giant package at my doorstep. Addressed to me. Super exciting. I'm fairly certain that it is from Amanda and Julia - as we had recently discussed holiday gifts and I had a sneaking suspicion that I was getting a highly anticipated crock pot. Haul package inside.

9:00 p.m. Finally get around to opening the package. Beneath a thick layer of styro-popcorn is a box wrapped in brown paper. It appears to be approximately crock-pot-sized.

9:05 p.m. Strange. It's not a crock-pot. It's a sewing machine.

9:10 p.m. Take notice for the first time that there is no card. No return address.

9:11 p.m. Ponder who might have sent me a sewing machine.

9:13 p.m. Call mom. Although she has never sewn anything in her life - I think that perhaps she is trying to break the family cycle of dependency on seamstresses. She denies any connection to the sewing machine. Double checks with Dad just to be sure.

9:20 p.m. The suspense is killing me. Even though I know he'll be angry - I wake Husband to ask if he ordered a sewing machine online. He groggily admits that he ordered it. I am unconvinced. It's an awfully nice sewing machine and seems like something we would have discussed. I rouse him again to verify. Me: "Did you order a sewing machine?" Him: "I think so."

9:25 p.m. I am confident that husband did not buy sewing machine. Apparently he wrongly admits to buying household items when awoken from deep sleep. Lesson learned.

9:30 p.m. Call Julia. Ask if by any chance she decided to get me a sewing machine instead of a crock-pot. She plays coy about the crock-pot - but assures me that she did not send the sewing machine.

9:35 p.m. Continue to ponder. Place call to mother-in-law. Ask if she is trying to send me subliminal domestic hints. Strike four.

9:45 p.m. Call UPS. Read tracking number and ask if they can tell me who the sender was. No luck.

Sometime around 10:00 p.m. I begin to have a vague recollection . . . I send the following email to Mom, Dad, Mama Riv, and Julia:

Since you were the four people I called trying to solve the sewing machine mystery . . . A flash of a memory came to me as I sat pondering who would send me a sewing machine. I have a memory - of someone (I can't remember who) - asking if they could send a Xmas gift to our house so their spouse (or significant other?) wouldn't see it. But . . . I can't remember WHO it was . . . and I can't call anyone - because I'm scared I'll call the person who was supposed to RECEIVE the gift. For example . . . maybe it was Matt who bought the gift for Beth . . . but perhaps it was Beth who bought the gift for Matt . . . . I can't call Beth, and I can't call Matt. . . . Hopefully Ben will have a flash of this memory as well and might be able to shed some light on who the gift is from . . . fingers crossed. This is totally blog-able material - except I can't blow the secret for whomever I'm supposed to be keeping it from! All I can say it - it's a darn good thing I didn't OPEN THE ACTUAL BOX! That would have been mortifying! Love you all, LHB

In the end . . . it WAS a gift for Beth. And she WAS surprised. But here is my favorite part of the story. After sending the above email, my mom responded only to me with this message:
"All I can say is you are your mother's daughter!"

20 minutes later, my dad, in a separate email sent only to me, wrote:
"You really are my daughter!"

My parents are too cute. I guess I belong to both of them.