Five-thirty is too early to get up. I don't care how cute you are.
Love, Mama
Dear Ted:
For the 432nd time - I will be taking you to school. I will be picking you up. We've been doing this for eight months, through rain, snow, sleet and even the occasional glimpses of sunshine. The approaching thunderstorm will stop me. But it will make me thankful for my rain boots.
Love, Mom
Dear Reg:
Thank you so much for going through my desk drawers, finding the brand new roll of correcting tape, unrolling its entirety - thereby dispersing tiny bits of sticky white stuff over every surface of the living room and kitchen and yourself - then tangling the tape around you in such a way I nearly needed scissors to get you out. All Mama needed was fifteen minutes to herself; was that too much to ask? Nevermind...
Love, Ma
Dear Nina:
I love you. The kids love you. We do not love your poop in the living room. You don't go when Papa lets you out at breakfast; you don't let me know you have to go before we leave for school; you wait until I'm gone for 45 min. to unload all over the living room. Because I need to clean up one more creature's crap.
Love, Your Human
Dear Weather:
WTF??!! Thunder, hail and the potential for SNOW tonight? Seriously?? Enough already.
Love, Soggy in PDX
Dear IRS:
Did we really need three more days of Tax Season? Three and a half months isn't enough!? If you decide to shut down and therefore delay the stupid deadline further I'm gonna... well... I don't know. Lose my mind? Move to Canada? Vote you dipsh*ts out of office?
Love (uh, NOT), A Taxpayer
Dear Blog Readers:
Thanks for listening.
Love ya all, Heidi
0 comments:
Post a Comment