Kayla is big into monograms right now. I'm not sure what sparked this recent love affair with her initials but her Birthday/Christmas list contained half a dozen different things featuring monograms. We got her a vinyl monogram for the back window of her new car for her birthday, and I ordered a couple of other items off the list for Christmas gifts.
The first one arrived Saturday, a pair of tortoise shell sunglasses with a gold monogram on one earpiece. I'm safe writing that; she's a busy teenager and only reads the blog when someone in the family points out the fact that there are pictures of her here. The sunglasses looked nice when I pulled them out of the soft drawstring bag they came in. They'll look nice on her, I thought.
Then I noticed...the initials were wrong. Oh, no, I lamented...I was so careful placing my order and proofed them two, maybe three times. How could I have missed that? So I went back to the order confirmation and sure enough, I'd put in the right letters. I checked the shipping notice and it was right too. But there on the glasses was clearly the wrong letter.
We'd joked at her birthday about how that monogram would change when she got married. She was not amused; apparently she'd never given much thought to not having the same monogram forever. Unless, of course, she married someone whose last name began with the same letters as hers...or she kept her name or never married. Perhaps the letter on the glasses wasn't in error at all but the Universe's way of telling us what her new monogram would become some day. Creepy thought there.
But I wanted the monogram that is hers today so I set out to find the contact information for the company with whom I'd placed the order. And, I'll admit, I was a little frustrated that I was having to deal with this at such a late date, especially since all the paperwork was correct. The holidays have enough hassle as it is.
I stopped in my tracks, however, when I picked up the shipping box and read the return address: Sandy Hook, CT. And suddenly my problem seemed insignificant. Sometimes the world is smaller than you can ever imagine.