Dear mommy of annoying boy at the park,
If I have the joy of encountering you again, and your son persists on following my socially-phobic son around, and when my son demonstrates that he does not want to be hugged for the zillionth time, and your son PUSHES MY SON DOWN THE STAIRS, and you SAY NOTHING, don't be shocked if someone else gets pushed down the stairs.
Dear city planners of the South,
Why did you choose not to install sidewalks anywhere? Do you have any idea how hard it is to teach children the difference between the street and, well, not the street when there is no clear division between the two? Especially when we are forced to take our evening walks in the street? The difference between a black driveway and a black road is NOT OBVIOUS to kids who are most likely watching airplanes in the sky anyway.
Dear husband of mine,
Let me let you in on a little secret. When you are in your full uniform and standing amongst twenty or so other soldiers in full uniform, you are NOT EASY TO SEE. So next time you want me to come see you jump out of a perfectly good helicopter, please use one of the specially purchased cell phone thingies we each carry (like you said you would) and TELL ME WHEN AND WHERE TO MEET YOU. I didn't really feel like wading across a tall tick-infested meadow and then through a large Private-infested group of soldiers to find you. So I didn't. But I did get some pictures!
Lest you think all has fallen apart today, I'll share with you the brightest part of my day. Emma was looking at me with a sweet smile on her face this morning. Then she said, "Mommy, when I grow up, can I borrow that skirt and shirt? You look beautiful."
Puddle! I was a puddle of mush! I practically offered her ice cream for breakfast after that one! And yes, Emma, you can borrow it. But please don't grow up too fast.