Dear Loony Bin ~
My name is Kim. I work about 60 hours a week, write a halfass blog and am a basketball widow to two elementary school children who have a Christmas pageant this week. My shopping's not done, my house is not clean and I could work an extra 60 hours this week and still not be done. Do you think that I could get a free trial pass to your fine establishment? You know, test the padded walls and the special attire - no strings attached? I can be there tomorrow and would like to cut a deal with you before I am shipped there without recourse. Give me a call. You can reach me at 555-LOST
Miss May Need Meds Soon
Dear Darling Boy ~
Your candor is one of my favorite things about you. Mostly. But we'll need to start working on your censor button and timing during the holiday break. Like when I was filming you during your customs presentation and your teacher was extolling the virtues of your Grandpa making your ceppo by hand and how nice it was that you could spend time with him and work on your project. You didn't HAVE TO SAY "no, he made it by himself while we were out shopping." Timing and censorship, sweetie. And we don't really need to send back our Christmas cards. The printer didn't "mess up our faces". That's an outdoor glow on our cheeks. And sweat. Remember the ten mile hike? And how it looks like we're sitting in the tops of trees because we WALKED THERE!!!!! You are precious, but you gotta learn how to zip it. We'll work on it together.
I Do Love You,
Sweet Angel Girl,
Break A Leg and Sing Like An Angel. A Tiny, Innocent Angel.
Dear Christmas Tree ~
I love you. You make me unconditionally happy amidst all the other chaos. Thank you for being with us again this year. We are very, very lucky.
Just Shy of a Scrooge
Letters to Someone happen around here every Thursday. You can visit Shortmama to be part of the fun.