Small Packages and Big Surprises

I have a friend whom I've known since our first week of college.  She was raised in a tiny Northern California town by two often-naked hippies who bestowed upon her a rather unusual name.  She is brilliant but a terrible speller, a fashionista who can't pass up a thrift store, a self-proclaimed baby hater, and a delightfully amusing weirdo. She also happens to be a NewYork Times bestselling author.

So when this friend emailed me earlier in the summer requesting my address because she had a present for my girls, I was suspicious.  It is a well-known fact that my friend has no desire for children.  She tolerates them now that most of her friends have spawned but she very much enjoys her carefree, childless existence.  I could not help but wonder what the heck was going to come in the mail.

Then the package arrived and well, take a look:

That's when I realized that being weird can be perfect.


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