Salute to Spouses Blog

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Sending our love, poo and all

Sometimes, I get the rare opportunity to send something to my sailor.

A “mail-drop,” we call it.

But basically, it’s just a ton of stuff shoved into a Ziploc bag labeled with his name. 

I always add pictures of our girls, gum, snacks and lots of other silly things you grow to appreciate when you’re stuck underwater for months on end.

Nothing fancy, by any means.

But thanks to Pinterest and Facebook, I always feel a little shame that his mail-drop packages aren’t as creative, crafty or special as the ones other wives send. Sure, I let my daughter scribble all over paper and send him her “art-work,” which he hangs up in his bunk, but it’s not picture-perfect decoupage, topped off with a little love sonnet written just for him, as I’ve seen some wives do.

So imagine my glee and surprise when I found one of those Hallmark cards that allow you to record your voice, set to play when the card is opened.

That’s perfect for the craft-challenged like me.

I just knew this would be my military-wife moment.  He’d open that card, hear his adorable toddler yell “Hi, Daddy!” and a single tear would fall from his eye, just like in the commercial.

I bought it and waited till the next day to elicit the aforementioned toddler’s help.

While the baby was sleeping, I locked my 2-year-old into her high-chair, bribed her with a bowl of raisins, and made her practice her line with me a few times, “Hi, Daddy! I love you!”

It took a few minutes, but we finally had it down pat, until I opened the card.

She wouldn’t talk.  She wouldn’t even grunt.

Then, as soon as I closed the card, she tried to snatch it out of my hand with her new favorite phrase, “Mine!”

I sighed, exasperated.

We continued that dog-and-pony show for quite awhile.

Open card.  No words. Close card. “Mine!” Sigh.

Thirty minutes later, I was sweating.  We had to do this. We couldn’t send Daddy a card with our most current recording: her screeching at the top of her lungs when I gently tried to keep her from tearing the card in half.

I had all but given up hope.

Until the 274th time we tried it, and she said it.

Or, rather, she said something.

It was close, it really was.  All save one, lone word. 

“Hi, Daddy! I love poo!”

And that word made all the difference.

Not quite the loving message I intended to send him as he floats 20,000 leagues under the sea, but it definitely gave him a pretty good picture of our home-life right about now.

So away it went, poo and all.

Not quite the military-wife moment I’d hoped for, but it’s definitely one both of us will remember for a long time to come.


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