Tink is like a child with the mail. He can’t wait to get it. Since there’s always a chance that there’s something in there that is going to ruin my day, I don’t mind waiting. At. All. He especially loves UPS deliveries. One day, he came hurrying into the kitchen where I was piddling. He was grinning merrily, toting a small package in his hands. He held it up and sang joyfully, “Is this what I think it is?” I took the package from him and looked at the return address. Penguin Putnam, New York. It took a moment to realize what he meant. I have a book coming out with Penguin – a 20th anniversary edition of my first book – so Tink thought it was an advance copy.