And damn that USPS, why won't you just hold it for me at the post office?
Fortunately our mail usually isn't delivered until evening, and this is completely ridiculous, but I've gotten to know the postman, so I will set up tracking alerts on my phone to text me when something will be delivered, and if it's guitar-sized, then the postman knows to leave it in his truck parked around the corner. If I'm home from work on time, I will wait for him out front, then he will let me grab it out the back of his truck and then I can sneak it around and through the basement.
"Honey, I'm going out in the yard to pick up dog poop. I'll check the front yard first and then the back yard..."
And one time we had some mice take up residence in the basement. I killed them off rather easily, but to my wife I made a big deal about the mice down there, so now there is a part of the basement where she is afraid to go... aka the guitar workshop!