As the boys love Christmas, yesterday I decided to allow them to aid me with the annual Christmas card mailing. This was probably as bad as an idea as when I took them by myself for their first cross-country skiing adventure. Yet moved by the Christmas spirit and maybe just a tiny bit by the whining sound the boys emitted, I told them they could help put stamps and the return address labels onto the envelopes.

Now had I undertaken this task on my own, it may have taken five minutes. With the boys help this became an almost hour long debacle. For a moment, I felt like I had returned to that motel room in Florida trying to place an order for pizza with Vito. Steve will certaintly recall my state after that adventure. It wasnt pretty nor was this. But to give the boys a break, they are 3 and 4 not adults, unlike the pizza culprits.

I guess I never realized the amount of fine motor skill involved in placing stamps and return addresses on envelopes. Some of the stamps are floating somewhere near the middle of the envelopes. I mailed them, though I should have consulted Vito, the resident mail expert, as to the ramifications for my mail.