Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Thank You Girl is in the House

Alas, Tara and I have to spend some quality time in the land of Thank You.

I'm glad we are on the same page (pun intended) with this task. I was taught you ALWAYS send a thank you note. I used to get ribbed for it in high school, and even in college, if I sent one to my peers. For some reason, in elementary school, it seemed fine. I think at age 8, you just like to get mail, any mail, and will not complain even if it's a goofy Snoopy thank you card from a kid in your class whose birthday party you attended under duress.

In my family, not sending a note of thanks= kiss of death and destruction. It is at same level of rudeness as receiving a gift while talking on a cell phone, and continuing to chat while opening it, glancing at it and saying to the person on the other end, "Hey, I just got this ugly sweater. Want to come with me when I exchange it?"

Plus, in my family, we worry. We would worry the gift didn't get there safely, that the neighbor was sporting those spiffy slippers, drinking that nice wine, wondering about his good fortune and who Auntie Mabel is.

My PARENTS write me thank you notes. My SISTER does, too. (Although we sometimes now send an electronic thank you.) Even (and especially) my 86 year old grandma does.

So, how crummy do I feel that my engagement party was 3 weeks ago and we have not yet fulfilled this obligation? Life intervenes sometimes. My dad ended up in the hospital. I had to travel for work. I got sick.

Tara and I each had notecards on hand, but not enough. I like a girl who can come up with 6 Thank You cards on short notice, though. (I can do the same, of course. We are like an Emily Post Convention.)

This weekend, we walked down to a cute little bookstore in the Laurel and bought some nice cards to send. Two big packs. Way more than we need. So, never fear, Thank You Girl is here.


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