To The Dirt Faced Okie Boys
I want to make a promise. I will try my very best not to judge you once you become an adult. I will try my very best to love you and your children just the way you are even if I don’t agree with you. I promise that if I suddenly become religious (or find some other obsession) I will not jam it down your throat. This applies to diets as well. I will try not to make my house uncomfortable with a million rules and white carpet. I promise that if I do renovate our house, it will not be in some antique Italian Corian bullshit that makes everyone tiptoe around the house, terrified they’ll ruin something. I promise I won’t follow behind you, bitching about your messes (or your kid’s messes) and ultimately portraying myself as a judgmental ass. I will try my very hardest to be a comfortable, loving person even if I’m bat shit crazy. I will try my damnedest to be someone you would love to see not someone you feel obligated to see.
To the Millionaire’s Wife
I don’t know how you do it. You live there, take on the guilt inducing phone calls much more often than I do. No wonder you find it all frustrating.
To my Printer
You SUCK! What is it about you that makes it impossible to print out contracts with the watermark? After fighting with you over and over, my publisher finally had send them to me. Not embarrassing at all. *rolls eyes*.
Mel the Greatest
Thank you. You saved my ass last week and I owe you big time. Not to mention your Christmas novella is BRILLIANT!!!!! *mwah*.
To my ancestors
I apologize for the boxes you’re things are stored in. I’m sorry that they probably won’t see the light of day for a long time. I really hope you understand. I didn’t really want all this crap, but my mother really wants your things to be preserved as if carrying your genetic material isn’t enough. As a result, I have tons of Bridge table clothes, breakable little teacups and other things I can’t bring out without risking a huge mess. Please understand, I’m not one of those “ladies who lunch” so I’m not absolutely sure what I’m going to use your cloth napkins for. I’ve got your genes. And now I have your itty bitty salt shakers. *sigh*.