UPS: A Comedy in Three Acts

The box I shipped myself before I left the states has been sitting at UPS Paris for 11 days. You may remember that first it was because my darling husband never checks his messages or we would have known that they'd called twice last week. Turned out they just wanted an emailed declaration that everything was bought over 6 months ago and a copy of my passport.

We got an email yesterday asking us to describe in detail the medicines that were in the box. Which would have been all well and good, except I don't remember packing any medicines in that box.

Granted, I was a packing whirlwind the last few days we were in the states. There were boxes that would stay at a friends house (to whom I'm eternally grateful, and you know who you are), the suitcases we would bring with us, and one lone box to be shipped (due to the exorbitant cost). Everything that I just couldn't live without was packed into this one box, but was it possible a stray box of Claritin had found its way in? Surely I would have written it down?

So, Stéph called UPS again this morning. Was it possible that it was some allergy medication?

Well, you'll have to tell us, they replied.

Stéph: Hold on just one second here......... Did you open the box?

UPS Clerk (who's obviously a rocket scientist on the side): Oh no, we're just going by what you've written in the inventory.

Stéph: It says medical records, not medicine! They're papers!!

Smug UPS Clerk: Ah.............................. Well, you'll have to email a declaration that they are indeed papers and not medicine, as we're too unbelievably stoopid to take the time to look up what "records" translates to in French.

OK, I made the last part up.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll see the box soon. And I think I'll buy UPS Paris an English-French dictionary for Christmas.