Letters

Dear Lady in the Red Camry,

Thank you for giving me the extra time to really work on my grocery list. I didn't think I'd have time to do that, but when you honked at me in the Penney's parking lot because I wasn't strapping my kids in fast enough for you helped me find the time. I was able to match coupons to all three grocery ads saving me lots of money. Who cares that I only went to one store? Lady in the red Camry, I hope that parking spot was as special as you thought it would be. I'm sure the six cars trapped behind you would think otherwise and probably all wondered, as I did, why you didn't just back up and take the space four cars down instead of idling there for fifteen minutes. I had three kids, packages, and a hefty stroller. If you needed to be thirty feet closer, maybe you could've gotten out of your car and helped me instead of giving me and my kids the finger.

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Dear Woodlands Resort,

I realize by publishing a non-password protected blog on the world wide web, that anyone can read my drivel. I'm okay with that. I don't find our lives or my writing so interesting that I think people would steal it's content but I guess that could happen. I mean, when you posted my link on your Facebook fan page without my consent for a little free advertising I'm sure you didn't think I'd notice, but it popped up on my home page just five minutes after I hit that big orange button. Didn't count on me being a fan, huh? When I commented on your link, the least you could've done is acknowledge me. Or maybe just tell me thank you. For which, BTW, You're Welcome.

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Dear Nickelodeon,

The all-day Spongebob fest is killing me. Please dispose of it. Quickly. I need more Oswald and Blues Clues and less Yo Gabba Gabba too. You know, if you ever have preschool shows again.

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Dear Sony,

Is there somewhere I can find how to block out Nickelodeon certain channels? I threw away lost our television manual.

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Dear Family With Ten Kids Down the Street,

WTF? Your kids are terrorizing our neighborhood. Everyone is talking about you. Get a nanny who speaks English and can discipline the hoodlums or stay home and quit roaming around the country under the ruse of "business". If you have enough money to travel 300 days out of the year, you probably have enough money to install your own swimming pool. Please do. It'll save you tons in legal fees because your teenagers are likely to drown someone one day. PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR KIDS SO WE DON'T HAVE TO!

(Yes, they really have ten kids)

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Dear Walgreens,

One hour photo means you get your photos in ONE HOUR. It does not mean you get your photos in NINE HOURS. My order wasn't that big. Neither was the girl in front of me you tried to blame. If your equipment is screwed up, don't assure me it'll be done in an hour, be honest and say so. I've never liked you anyway since you started taking over every street corner. You almost ruined my special scrapbook getaway. I couldn't drink my beer for NINE HOURS because I was waiting, waiting, waiting to finally get in my car and pick up those pictures. That I needed. Because I was fricking SCRAPBOOKING!

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Dear CVS,

I LOVE YOU! Forty minutes for photos. Awesome.

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Dear Laura,

Thanks for the Yuengling. I need more. Meet you next year for another beer exchange?

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Dear Arbor Oaks Retreat,

Thank you for an awesome kid free weekend. Can't wait to do it again. But I have to ask? Has anyone really used this? And where'd you get the comforters because I need one.