Every year around this time of the year we would watch for it.
We would hear a delivery truck coming down the street and race to the window, our little faces pressed against the glass hoping, willing it to stop at our house.
And then would come the day that the truck did finally pull up to the curb in front of our house. We held our breath as the delivery man rummaged through the back before emerging holding something…was it the right size? Was it the right shape?
Was it THE BOX?
The doorbell would ring, we would hear the ‘thunk’ of it being dropped on our doorstep and we would race to open the door and drag it inside.
I didn’t think much of it at the time, but our mom always looked kind of wistful as we cut through the tape and lifted the lid of the box.