My Dearest...
2004-11-18, 10:57 p.m.

Dearest Family, it is called a laundry hamper. It will not eat you. Go to the nice hamper. Gooooooooo.

Dearest Hubby, I did not volunteer to bring homemade mashed potatoes for the entire plant�s lunchtime Thanksgiving celebration. Therefore, I shall not make them. I did, out of the goodness of my heart, peel and boil 10 lbs of potatoes. The niceties stop there. You have never made them before; well, that�s what recipes are for. I�m busy.

Dearest Hubby, no I did not know that potato peelings would clog up a sink disposal.

Dearest Hubby, when I am making 10 lbs of mashed potatoes at 10:30pm, after you have just gone to bed in a plumbing snit, then is not the time to call to me you recently used the last of the salt.

Dearest Daughter, the entire world is aware of your angst. An insinuation of cheating on an open book science test is indeed a cause for Mom to intervene. However, in the future, please remember that �Oh yeah, I did accidentally leave my Study Guide out during the test� BEFORE Mom confronts the teacher in a huff. Rejoice that she did not think you cheated, but simply did not listen to instructions, and allowed you to retake the test. And rejoice that Mom is allowing you to live to see tomorrow.

Dearest Son, we know your intense dislike of schoolwork. We know how much you would like to stay home tomorrow. You don�t have to run a fever to prove your point. Really.

Dearest Readers, send Calgon. And chocolate.

Goodnight.

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