A Card Without An Envelope

I like symmetry. Even when I do creative projects, determined to use my right brain only, my end result looks balanced and planned out. So when I look for a note card that came as part of a set of 8 cards and 8 envelopes, I am fully expecting each card to have a buddy to enclose it. Last week, I wrote thank-you notes and gave two cards and envelopes to Beckie so she could write her thank-you notes. Today, when I went to get her another card I found the expected two cards remaining but no envelopes. I KNEW I had a one-to-one correspondence for my envelopes and cards. I figured they must have slipped down into the drawer and were hiding, so I went on the hunt. I couldn't find the matching envelopes, and although I didn't really think Beckie held the answer to this particular mystery I asked her if she had helped herself to a couple of envelopes without cards. To my surprise (and why does this kind of thing still surprise me?) she said, "Oh, yeah. I thought my handwriting looked terrible, so I did the envelopes over again." When we do school, she uses pencils. She is not a perfectionist and doesn't mind erasing or getting "close enough" on her work. Apparently, thank-you notes fall into a different category, and must be: A. written in ink and B. the best handwriting ever. I'm just glad I asked her before I: A. wasted more time looking for envelopes that were long gone and B. Convinced myself that I was losing it and needed to look into assisted living facilities that allow kids and pets.