That started my frequent trips to the post office box, and unfortunatly Monday was labor day so my package of greatness could not be retreived. Tuesday, I hurried to the post office to show them my little orange sheet, and was given a odd looking box with a return address from my grandparents. Then I remembered they were sending me a care package as well, but I was sad to see that my parent's package had yet to arrive.
I trucked my lone package up the three flights of stairs and was overjoyed to see the hamburger helpers and such awaiting my digestion.
The next day, I practically ran to the post office, and giggled like a school girl as I returned to the counter with a new orange sheet, and was handed a glorious box with a cute "mom and dad" return address. I didn't even stop to talk to my new friends. I quickly husstled my bussle up those three flights of stairs, grabbed my keys and tore open the box, to find it sitting on top, nestled in bubble wrap. My prized possession. The one thing I have been waiting for since it's creation three weeks ago. The parent's infamous pickled okra.
Unfortunatly, there is a limited amount of space in each mason jar, so the supply will not last forever, but merely quinch my craving.... Hint Hint MDR :)
My life is now complete. Y'all have a great day :)