A couple Christmases ago, WD backed over my dad’s mailbox while we were visiting and we were in a hurry to get to some other Christmas event, so we just left it laying (correct verb in my dialect, sorry) on the ground and drove off like evil anti-Santas. Merry Christmas, sucker!
I was feeling guilty later so I called him to check if he saw it. Someone else had dropped by and brought him a tiny Christmas tree they left on his porch. Dad hadn’t noticed the mailbox and I didn’t know about the tree, so the conversation went like this.
Me: Well, dad, did you see what we left for you?
Dad (sort of happy): Yeah, I did.
Me: What did you do about it?
Dad: I brought it on inside.
Me (incredulous): What’dya do that for?
Dad (confused): I just thought I should.
At this point, the conversation started to break down because even though dad has some pretty crazy ideas, I couldn’t fathom why he would be carrying a broken mailbox into the house. We got it sorted out after that; dad got a new mailbox which still stands to this day and a little fiber optic Christmas tree (starting to get dusty) that he puts out every year.
I guess I am feeling Christmas-y because the dumb radio station started playing full-time Christmas music three days after Halloween. Watch your mailboxes, my friends!