That's what the little two-note, back and forth, windshield-wiper beat and humm of the printer heads is.
Thanks to D for making it possible for us to have somewhat personalized messages while I retain the small scrap of my sanity that is left after seven hours (give or take) of simultaneously wrapping and boxing and parenting. Not that I wrapped or boxed any children. That I remember.
Did I say I wouldn't do this again? Last year, did I say that? I just checked my blog posts from last December and no, I didn't officially announce to the world that I would not wait until the last minute to wrap and send things out. But I can say it now. About next year. This year, it's sadly, pathetically, too late to make any such declarations.
"Toujours en retard," that's me.
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