Our postman decided to bring the post early yesterday so we missed him and in true style there was a package, which was too big to fit through our post box. This is rather annoying because he usually comes 30 minutes later and there is always someone at home in the afternoon. Instead he then takes the package all the way back to the main post depot which is miles away from home and work (this despite there being a post office about a block up the road from my house).
When I dropped the kids off with my sister she hands me the package card so that I can go and collect it. I am so excited by the prospect of a new package because I wasn't expecting anything which could only be good news right?
So off I toddle, negotiating the extremely tight country lanes so that I can avoid the peak hour traffic (N.Wales is very pretty in the spring and summer so the beauty is not wasted) and eventually I make it to the post office and collect my mysterious gift. It's in a box! Wrapped in brown paper! Addressed to me! (and yes the exclamation is necessary how else will you measure the level of my excitement?) I get in the car and rip the paper off to reveal a Fly London shoe box (mmmmmm shoes...) and lo' and behold but aren't there the cutest pair of wedge sandals in the box? In my size! I wipe the drool on my sleeve and search further for some inkling of the sender but find nothing!
I take my mysterious present home and proudly display them for my sister (she thinks they're ok but not her style) and the boys (clearly they are my children because they definitely approve as is evident by the gleeful hugs and kisses that each shoe received) and finally for the RO when he gets home.
He eyed the package suspiciously and asked who they were from, then raised both eyebrows when I explained that I didn't know who had sent them. We ran through our rather small list of friends and close acquaintances slowly whittling them down to a select few who would know:
a) Our address
b) My shoe size
c) Most importantly, my taste in shoes
Fortunately it turns out that my best friend had seen them, liked them, knew I would like them and so he packaged them up and sent them to me because thats what best friends do and it's only one of the many reasons that we love them. The RO is ever thankful that we found the mysterious sender as he was halfway to convincing himself that I had some bizarre stalker who was feeding my shoe fetish.
So behold... the shoes ain't they sweet :-)
 Yes, I am a terrible mother. My children LOVE shoes and so I let them eat shoes all the time. So far they haven't fallen ill or anything horrid so I guess we're walking in clean-ish places.
 This isn't the first time something weird like this has happened. Over Christmas the boys received a present from someone who we all thought was our cousin (same name) but it turns out it wasn't from her and we don't know any other Kim. Very weird!
 If I had to have a stalker (cause lets face it they're generally a little creepy) it would be pretty cool if they continued sending really fab shoes without ever expecting anything else in return.