A few weeks ago, I ordered some amazing new Noonday products through Lisa that I was super excited about. I stalked my email notification from UPS letting me know the ship dates and tracking information. When I finally got the ship date, I was thrilled. When the ‘delivered’ notice came through, it took everything in me not to leave work, drive home and get my new goodies. But I waited.

And when I got home, there was no package. There was no package on the porch. There was no package in the mailbox. There was no package on the table, where my cleaning lady normally leaves it. There. Was. No. Package. Anywhere.

I panicked a little {ok a lot}. I searched high and low. Finally, I called the post office. I gave them my tracking number and my address. The sweet post office lady told me that the mail carrier had accidentally delivered MY package to the wrong house. She immediately sent someone out in an attempt to retrieve my Noonday goods.

Ten minutes after this first phone call, a mail carrier (not my normal one, but a different one) pulls up in my driveway with no package. She tells me they have tracked my mail carriers GPS and that it showed him delivering the package to my address at 10:20 that morning. Y’all, there was no package.

This sweet lady drove around my neighborhood, scoping out porches just in case there was a technical glitch in the GPS. I walked the outside of my house searching for cardboard pieces. It was all very dramatic.

At long last, we gave up the search. I walked back into my house, defeated, just knowing my poor Noonday was a lost cause (not to mention the money I had spent on that purchase!). As I turned back to close my garage door, an unfamiliar object in the laundry room floor caught my eye.

It was my Noonday package, right there in the middle of the laundry room, where my ever-so-helpful cleaning lady had stored it for me.  And I had just scrambled the entire Trinity Post Office to search for a package that had been inside my house the entire time.  I owe those sweet ladies big time….maybe a delivery of homemade cookies will help them forgive me?