Playing courier

A few weeks ago, I saw a tweet from a friend offering dessert baked by her sister. I was delighted, and doubly when she voluntarily offered to send it home. We coordinated diligently for the next few days with a furious exchange of DMs and rearranging of plans. But it was not to be. The forces that be had other plans for us.

To simplify both our lives, she invited me home for lunch and promised to hand over the box of goodies after. We had a fun afternoon, giggling, gossiping and gorging on yummy brownies. I spent time with her little girl, reading and watching a movie. I also made a new friend that afternoon, someone whose writing I enjoy.

On my way out (a very hurried exit), K handed me a box of brownies. I was looking forward to enjoying them with the folks. But I went off to meet my soon to-be-engaged cousin right after I deposited the box at home in the fridge.

When I returned home that night, the mother informed me that she and the father had split one brownie between them. But with the flurry of phone calls and all the chaos, they could barely savor it.

A little later, my neighbor’s kid (roundabout K’s little girl’s age) dropped by and I offered her a brownies. She scooped up all the caramel and chocolate and discarded the rest.

The next morning, an aunt made a last-minute visit with twins in tow and the mother packed off the remaining two brownies with them.

It’s almost as if K and I were mere logistical mediums to get the stuff from her sister to all these people. And in the process, she fed me lunch, I read to her daughter and I made a new friend.

Makes me feel slightly useful!


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