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Maybe we just need a PO Box… you can’t hit those.

July 21, 2010

I promised yesterday that I would post about the tale of the mailbox. Over the last several years, we’ve seen the mailbox hit, mangled, repaired, bashed, and repaired again. It’s like lather, rinse, repeat.

My first encounter with our mailbox was when I first met my husband, and I visited the house. It was a nice, small, black mailbox – tucked out-of-the-way so it would not get hit by someone in the driveway, far enough off our road to not be hit by random drivers, yet still accessible to us. What could go wrong? Apparently everything.

It was first hit by the friend of my husband’s oldest daughter. Her friend, we’ll call her S to protect the guilty, was backing out of the driveway when we heard a tell-tale shriek of metal. We turned around to see S stop her car, then get out to investigate any damage… to her car. Seeing none, she hopped in her car and with a cheery wave off she drove. We could see the damage to the mailbox from the driveway – a nice long streak down the side and a slight tilt to the post. DH corrected the tilt, reinforced the post, and tried some touch up on the paint. It worked.

A few months later, we came home from an outing. Attack number two had occurred in our absence. This time the post leaned significantly to the side, and the box was hanging partially off the post. Once again, tools in hand, DH corrected the tilt, reinforced the post and this time realigned the box. A few reinforcement screws to the mailbox secured it more tightly to the post.

By this time, we were scratching our heads over the poor mailbox. Then it was attack number three – this time by me. I was backing out of our driveway when I realized what a hazard this little black box presented. For such a little thing, it sure can make a nice long engraved slash in the paint on the car. I didn’t damage the mailbox too much, so again DH went out to make the repairs. By this time, he was getting most frustrated and to this day I hear laughter regarding my encounter with our mailbox. My DH loves to say that I heard the shriek of grating metal and continued to drive on with a “What’s that noise?” and shrug of the shoulders. Not quite accurate, but can be irritatingly amusing at times.

So, by now, I am seriously thinking we need a new mailbox. DH agrees, since he was actively eBaying at the time and receiving large packages on a regular basis. You know it’s bad when the UPS man still asks about the kids and realizes the 7-year old is now old enough to start college in the fall. However we put it off for some reason – maybe our ESP at work? Yes, it was attack number five.

Number five came from a random truck in the neighborhood. We saw the moving trucks come into the neighborhood. We feared. We waited. We finally left the house on an errand. In our absence, yet again, the mailbox was hit – this time mangled. No note. It was as if the driver never noticed. How can you not notice a large post snapped at the top and the mailbox on the ground? I know… rhetorical question.

We replaced it this time with an extra-large box and reinforced post. It was fine for a couple of years. Yes, we actually made it two years. Then, we had this:

The local county workers were out paving the main road – the one you see beyond the mailbox on the other side. We live off that road on a side street. Somehow they found a way to mangle the mailbox and knock the post sideways. They did come back later and replace the whole thing – post, larger mailbox, new numbers, we were upgraded.

When we spoke to the driver, he said “I was trying to watch the mailbox when I heard a loud shriek of grating metal.”

I looked at DH and said, “I think it’s time we just get that P. O. Box. Nobody can hit those, can they?”

2 Comments leave one →
  1. July 21, 2010 3:02 pm

    Yikes! Your mail box sure has some enduring gumption!

    • July 21, 2010 11:50 pm

      You aren’t kidding! We have laughed so much. They put up the new one… which is now taller than I am. Now when I check mail, I look like a five-year-old going to look for a letter from grandma. šŸ™‚

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