The purest joy in life, I’ve often said, is getting a package. Who is more loved than the UPS guy? We moved out of our old UPS guy’s zone three years ago, and he still greets me by name whenever I see him. When we were expecting Iris, I basically treated her like a package, something we preordered well before its release date. “Is my little buddy coming out today?” I would ask Laurie, in the same I ask, “Any packages for me?” when I’m expecting something from Amazon.

The flip side of this, of course, is the depression that results from many consecutive days of junk mail. Around here, junk mail is defined as anything other than paychecks, packages, cards, or magazines. We had not received any of these things since last Tuesday. I was starting to flinch as I opened the mailbox.

Then, today, there was a package from Penzeys spices. I had ordered some new chili powder. I didn’t think there would ever be a time in my life when I’d be thrilled to get a package of mild chili powder, but I told Iris, “This chili powder is not spicy!” She and Laurie opened the box. Iris has package fever, just like me. She tasted the chili powder and pronounced it good. Enchiladas tomorrow! And maybe a paycheck or an issue of Saveur? Please?