People often assume running a small business is glamorous.
It isn't.
Sometimes it means designing beautiful bookmarks, packing exciting surprise bags and drinking tea while answering lovely messages from customers.
And sometimes a parcel disappears.
Before we continue, I would like to make something perfectly clear.
I was not responsible.
That accusation has absolutely no evidence supporting it.
Other than... well... we will come to that.
📦 Six Parcels, One Suspicious Dragon
It all began on a perfectly ordinary Tuesday.
Maria had packed six parcels. Each one was wrapped beautifully, decorated with tissue paper and stickers, and filled with enough bookish magic to make any reader smile.
She placed them neatly on the packing table and said, “I'll just print the postage labels.”
Then she disappeared into the office.
Which left me alone with six parcels.
I am sure you can already see where this story is unfairly heading.
Naturally, I inspected them. Quality control is a very important responsibility.
One parcel smelled faintly of vanilla. Another rattled slightly. One was suspiciously squishy, and another had an excellent bow.
Everything appeared to be in perfect order.
Except one parcel looked lonely.
It was sitting by itself, away from the others, almost as though it wanted company.
I am not saying parcels have feelings. I am simply saying this one looked sad.
So I moved it.
Just a tiny bit.
To make it feel included.
That is all.
🔍 The Disappearance
About three minutes later, Maria returned.
She counted the parcels once, twice and then three times.
Finally, she frowned.
“There were six...”
She counted again.
“Why are there only five?”
I looked around helpfully.
“This is deeply concerning.”
Maria searched the packing table, under the table, behind the printer, inside empty boxes and even in the recycling.
Nothing.
The parcel had vanished.
For the next twenty minutes, our workshop became an official crime scene.
Maria searched everywhere.
Meanwhile, I launched my own investigation.
Every great detective begins with questions.
Who benefited from this disappearance?
Who had access?
Who had motive?
Who had tiny purple fingerprints on the missing parcel?
Let's not focus on that last one.
🕵️ The Evidence
I inspected the evidence carefully.
There were tiny footprints.
Interesting.
Purple scales.
Curious.
A trail of biscuit crumbs.
Suspicious.
I announced my findings.
“I believe someone very handsome, with excellent taste in books, may have borrowed it.”
Maria stared at me.
“Pip.”
“Yes?”
“Why is there ribbon stuck to your tail?”
I looked behind me.
There was ribbon.
Quite a lot of ribbon.
Coincidence.
Probably.
🧺 The Missing Parcel Is Found
After another fifteen minutes, Maria finally found the missing parcel.
It was underneath my blanket.
Before everyone starts jumping to conclusions, I would like to point out that I had absolutely no idea it was there.
Apparently, I had moved it somewhere “safe,” climbed on top of the blanket and then forgotten about it entirely.
Which, admittedly, weakens my defence a little.
🕵️ Detective Pip's Case File #001
The Curious Case of the Missing Parcel
After examining all available evidence, I have reached the following conclusions:
📦 The parcel was never actually missing.
📦 Royal Mail was completely innocent.
📦 Maria's investigation skills are excellent.
📦 My investigation skills are enthusiastic.
📦 Ribbon is surprisingly difficult to remove from dragon tails.
📦 If you accidentally sit on evidence, it becomes much harder to solve the crime.
🐉 Pip's Final Thought
Maria has now introduced something called “A No Helping Rule.”
Apparently, I am no longer allowed to inspect parcels unless specifically invited.
Personally, I think this shows a disappointing lack of trust.
On the bright side, she still has not realised that I secretly quality-check every bookmark before it leaves the workshop.
Strictly speaking, by “quality-check,” I mean I admire them for several minutes.
Which is basically the same thing.
If your TBR isn't taller than you... are you even trying?
— Pip
🐉 Ink & Scales