The Amazon Problem

With two kids, Amazon is a blessing. Everything comes to us and we don’t have to leave the house. The UPS man knows us and it feels like Christmas every time he knocks on our door (which is daily). This blog post is actually why Amazon is the worst.

The Garage
Our garage is basically an Amazon distribution center. If you walk into our garage before Sunday evening (trash day is Monday), you’ll walk through piles of cardboard. You know the last scene of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark where you see the Ark of the Covenant being wheeled into a dark warehouse filled with stacked boxes and crates? Our garage is exactly like that. I spend every Sunday evening breaking down boxes to fit into our recycling bin. Here is a billion dollar unicorn start up idea: I’ll pay someone to get these boxes out of my house. They’re literally everywhere.

Trigger fingers
We forget what we ordered. Our trigger fingers are so fast that we hit purchase before our brain tells us it’s a bad idea. I mean, it’s exactly what Bezos wants. And this 4-pack of Burt’s Bee’s pomegranate chapstick is exactly what I want too, right?

The Returns
Sweet Lord Krishna Baby Jesus. My wife clicks purchase on 3 things, knowing she’s going to return 2. I’m like, “can you please commit to one single purchase?” to which she’s like “Can you commit to not being all up in my business right now?” And then I scream because nothing makes sense. Curse you, Amazon.

Ps. I can’t wait to try the blueberry & dark chocolate chapstick. Thanks, Bezos.


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