I’m one of the most trustworthy* people you will ever meet. Probably the most deceitful thing I have done this year was substituting ham for turkey in the kids’ lunches last week while still calling them ‘turkey sandwiches’.
So, I felt positively Gone Girl’esque yesterday as I drove to the next town over and got myself a super secret PO Box. Okay, so it’s not super secret since I’m telling you and the first thing I did was text my husband a picture of it telling him:
Why do I need a PO Box? Am I having a scandalous long-distance affair with someone from the 1850’s? Do I ……. okay, that’s about the only reason I can think of that I would need a PO Box.