I am fairly certain that I am confusing a goodly portion of the universe by ordering pregnancy books. In fact, more pregnancy books are due to arrive here over the next couple of weeks than I ordered when I was pregnant.
This amuses me.
In other news, when the postman rang the bell to hand me a parcel today, Cricket came a-running, warbling her hopes. “Did the boy cats I ordered arrive? Are those the boy cats? Please give me the boy cats!”
I petted her, told her that no, there were no boy cats, and she wandered sadly off to curl up in the laundry basket again. Every now and again she gives a mournful little mew, the kitten equivalent of a doleful sigh.
I am mildly bewildered as to the order in which these books are arriving, however. I ordered four from the same store, and the one that just got here was the last to be shipped out. In fact, when I placed the order it was out of stock, and I was warned that it take three to four weeks to be sent to me. And it’s here first. The books that were in stock that shipped the day before this one are nowhere to be seen yet; they probably won’t arrive till Monday. Everything ships from the same warehouse; everything is coming by the same method. I do not understand our postal system in the least.
Ah, well, I now have one of the books I needed for research, and I’m about a hundred words away from the daily quota, so I think I’ll heat up the chicken wings that are in the fridge and settle down with a highlighter and some sticky notes.