Office Supplies Nirvana.

Where to begin with this story?

Once upon a time, two teenaged girls met. They shared numerous qualities -- intellectual acumen, parents who valued practicality and expected appropriate behavior, and sarcasm far surpassing their chronological ages. They became fast friends and frequent note-passers.

Sister of my brain. Sister of my funny bone.

What does this have to do with office supplies?
For now, kind reader, lots of paper. Read on.

The time for college arrived and one went north while the other went east. For sake of a speedier and slightly less painful tale, let us say that distance, time, and distractions interfered. As many a familiar story unfolds, they lost touch.

A decade and a half -- at least -- from their last exchange, Facebook.com happens.
A friend request from one. Accepted by the other.

Different sorts of tragedies, challenges, and daily routines. But, fundamentally, what has endured the years is what drew them together as teenagers. Same brains. Same wits. And now, a healthy respect for the timing of re-connectivity.

I know, I know. Lovely story of Karma-meets-the-interweb. We'll move on to the real lure: Office supplies.

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A couple of months pass and an offer by the Employed One (clearly NOT the CQ) is e-mailed. Would the Combat Crab's office benefit from some office supplies? (Gentle readers, these are legitimate office supplies!) The Combat Crab, ever proud and frugal, declines that others could use them. CQ, back in the Castle, shakes her head, pitying the man she wed would look a gift stapler in the handle.

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Another month or so passes when the Employed One of the duo (let's call her Patty Not Rita until a better Castle-name emerges) gives a niece and nephew office supplies that they adore. Hours of fine motor practice. And, if you're a marketing exec in this business, the pediatric demographic represents a bold new frontier. Patty Not Rita contemplates the Castle, thinking that's a pretty densely populated test market and makes another offer. The CQ flapped with excitement, thinking a new stapler and hole punch would be awfully *handy* -- especially with IEP season rolling around.

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This Wednesday, our big, bald, burly UPS driver labored to heft a box from his truck to our doorstep. LLGA and I pounced upon it with an excitement generally reserved for hand-me-down girly-girl apparel.






Wow! And I thought we were getting a stapler and a hole-punch!



Aw....the Big Sled Dog is pleased.

Like getting a note in the hallway during passing period. :-)

Patty Not Rita is a HAND MODEL! On this here hole punch package!
Clearly, the CQ is *NOT*!


Oh, were my babies this clean and well-behaved!


Doubt that Patty Not Rita could have predicted the sweet gift of bubble wrap in the hands of J Crab, Sr.


Think American Beauty. Only with folders and matching tab dividers. That and clothing!!





PNR writes: "I figure if I can get all 5 A-------n offspring to be Swingline Savants, we can call it my 'grass roots marketing success'".

University of Illinois colors...nice touch, PNR!



"Markers...markers...markers!!!"


PNR even sent GMK a little goodie. "Oh, Dad will love this!"

The little notes had us giggling.

Like I said, hours of entertainment for Youthful Types. J Crab Sr. still with the bubble wrap. This was snapped right before the Violence commenced.
Wipe boards are like gold in the Castle of Autism! LOVE THEM! (Please note that the CQ lost a TON of hair (in clumps) since LLGA's arrival/Patty Kiki's departure and the fringe in front that looks like Charlie-boy was my most recent stylist is actually a "good sign" as it's growing back finally...but I need to see a professional and fast!)
Magnetic boards, too? We are spoiled!!
LLGA loves a good dry-erase eraser.

Thank you, Patty Not Rita!

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NOTE:
"This offer of goodies good only for those with 5 kids, a husband overseas, and who drove a lovely hand-me-down orange Audi in high school. And lived in Merna."

Special and exclusive and a one-of-a-kind care parcel.

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Liz Lemon (30 Rock) would say to her husband (if LL had one, leading to a 30-minute episode where she had to repair the spousal conflict), "Suck it, monkey-crab! These implements and equipments could have been brightening up your cubicle and crib if you'd played your cards right!"

I suppose there's still a chance for the Combat Crab to return home bearing a gift (i.e., a flag flown over the Embassy or Camp Victory or Camp Liberty, CQ's flexible like Gumby) and score some cool blue staples that could match his USS G----y stationery.