Moms. Wow. God sure knew what He was doing when He made those. I was off someplace saving the world thousands of miles from family and home, sleep-deprived, frazzled, foul-smelling and grouchy. It was yet another birthday spent someplace I’d sooner not be.
Mail call is a holy thing to soldiers in the field. In the days before Skype and ubiquitous data links back to the World, good old-fashioned mail was the lifeline back to things soft, warm and sweet-smelling. This day I had a package. My dour comportment perked at the prospects.

The box was of modest dimensions and externally unremarkable. I took the small parcel to a quiet place so as to explore it with the reverence it warranted. I loosened its bonds with the blade on my Gerber and peered expectantly within.