Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Dear noisy cat in heat on my doorstep...

Go set up shop somewhere else.  We are not a dating service.  We will not take in your offspring.  We will not feed or entertain you.  But we might let our dogs chase you.  Probably best for you to just move on.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Dear Offspring...

Yes, I ate the last Rice Krispie treat.  And if that makes me a bad mother, I don't mind being bad.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Dear Exorbitantly Priced Home Repair...

Turns out I actually hate something more than trips to Walmart with children in tow.  And that would be you.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Dear Zits...

Go away.  You weren't welcome during puberty.  Or pregnancy.  I'd really love for my complexion to be cleared up before my children are plagued by you.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Dear Speeding Spouse...

Please stop speeding.  Please stop speeding so that you'll stop getting tickets.  With the money we've thrown away paying speeding tickets during our marriage, we could've paid for half of that family vacation you so desperately want to take.  Get out the urge while playing Mario Kart

Sincerely,
Your Wife
a.k.a. The Non-Speeding Voice of Reason

Monday, July 16, 2012

Dear Photos of the Class Reunion that I did not attend...

Thank you for the not-so-subtle reminder that I and my classmates are middle aged.  Ouch.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Dear Scott Brooks...

You really didn't do yourself, or your team, any favors last night by continuing to play James Hardin.  During the finals is not the time to "trust your guys" by letting them play poorly.  Show your trust in your bench, and give someone else a chance to step up.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Dear Red Robin...

I find your new advertising theme extremely repellent.  I'll revisit your chain when you get rid of those guys.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Dear Universe...

It took me a full two hours to deep clean my kitchen tonight, as it hadn't been done since well before Easter.  Feels good.  I can't help but wonder...  Does this fact prove that this working mother of three young ones is LAZY?  Or does it prove that I'm NORMAL?