A Special Delivery

Not so much great expectations, more like a giant one!

Delivery drivers don't tend to look sheepish when they come to the door.

"Would you accept a parcel for next door?"

"Sure," I said, knowing that my neighbour isn't always in. We often receive deliveries that sit by the door for several days until they're collected.

"Great," said the driver, walking back to his van.

Maybe that was just the guy's manner and I'd misread him.

That said, I heard numerous clunks of doors and metal, followed by lengthy pauses. Had he lost the package between houses?

I stepped out to see where he'd got to.

He'd gone back to the van, because the parcel had never left the van. From what I could see, the van might of well have been the parcel.

The driver had taken out a carry trolley and was now struggling to pull out a long heavy box that stretched from the front to the back of his van.

I called out, "When you said 'parcel', I thought you meant...y'know...a small parcel."

He gave a wide grin and carried on unpacking.

"No. I can't take this."

"It's okay. I'll bring it in for you and rest it somewhere."

He used the van and his weight to stand the box up onto the carry trolley, revealing a package so large that it wouldn't fit lengthways from my floor to my ceiling.

I would've stood there in disbelief if I didn't have to be quick to go back on my agreement. "I'm really sorry, but I can't accept this for so many reasons."

And I had reasons. Not just the obvious ones. The reasons that had probably caused the sheepish look at the start of this encounter.

The delivery driver carried on, although without the grin now. "I'll let them know so they can take it from you as soon as possible."

"Sometimes that is many days. And I care for someone who needs easy access. It's not safe. You didn't explain how huge this was."

He realised this wasn't going to happen the way he'd hoped. I apologised again.

One of my kids had come out to look at all this and he was now the one wearing a grin.

The driver stood on the spot, halfway along the path, with monster-box at one end and me at the other end. He looked at the box again...Perhaps to see if it had got any bigger in the last five minutes.

"That's okay," he said. But he didn't move.

"Sorry," I apologised for the umpteenth time.

"That's okay," he repeated, still fixed to the spot.

Once his legs started working again, he paced around the general area and I left him to it.

As I closed the front door, probably as dazed as the driver's feet had been, another one of my children had appeared.

"CAN I SEE, CAN I SEE?" he screamed with delight and laughter in his voice.

"Yes, you can see from the window."

As soon as he looked out the window, he emitted a noise. I don't know how to spell the noise, but I'm guessing at:

"HEEAAAAAHEHERRGGGHEHEHEHEAAAHHHHHHEHEHEEEEEEEHHEEAAHHHAHEHE!!!"

But I knew what he meant. "I know," I said.

Knock-knock. The door again.

Really? I got ready to apologise another 50 times.

But it was my wife, back from a walk. Letting her in, I said, "Can you see that delivery for next door?"

"Yes," she said. "It's very large, isn't it?"

"Yep. The driver asked us to take it in."

"What? How? That?"

I knew what she meant. "I know," I said.

---

My son looked out the window for over 5 minutes, as the driver was clearly trying to figure out what to do. In the end, there wasn't much he could do.

"HE'S PUTTING IT BACK IN THE VAN, HE'S PUTTING IT BACK IN!"

"Poor guy."

"HOW WOULD IT EVEN FIT?"

"I know."

"WHAT WILL HAPPEN NOW?"

"It'll probably just go back, much to the inconvenience of the depot and the driver."

"WE COULDN'T HAVE TAKEN IT!"

"I know."

I seemed to know a lot. But I didn't really know what to do next.

So I wrote about it.