The UPS truck pulled up late for our neck of a woods last Friday evening, setting off the dogs and interrupting double Jeopardy. I was tired and not feeling in any mood to go downstairs to see what had been delivered.
In fact, I walked the dogs without even noticing where the driver might've left the parcel.
That night, I had a long vivid dream about a baby that I had lost somewhere in the house. You better go see where that baby is, I kept hearing myself say.
The next morning, I woke up, wondering what on earth the baby dream could mean but didn't think too much of it. I was bringing the dogs back from their first morning run, when I happened to notice the flat brown package lying forlorn on top of the low stone planter. Another comic book, I assumed, and almost didn't pick it up.
But I did and nearly dropped it when I saw my name on the label and the return address. I opened the package and inside was the first proof of the print edition for How David Met Sarah.
I'd found my misplaced baby.
