The Grocery Store

Dear <that's a lychee nut, honey> Children,
     Please accept <no I don't know if they  have any cheese from Wisconsin> my apologies <your brother gets to push the cart first> for being, <slow down with the cart!>  as you put it, 'crabby'  <I know you like to be silly and loud but the grocery store is not the place to do that you need to act like a 7th grader>  at the grocery <do not stick your finger through the plastic on the hamburger!> store this <no we don't need orange juice, we already have some please put it back> evening. I <let your sister push the cart it's her turn.> don't know <Shoot! I forgot blueberries, can you go back and get some? Yes, I will stay in this aisle so you don't lose me> what could <no, I'm not buying you soda> have possibly <push the cart with BOTH FEET on the ground! It is not a scooter!> caused my foul mood <you almost hit that person, I told you to push the cart slowly>  as we had lots of <I already said no, I am not going to change my  mind!>  time and you were <seriously, you have to go to the bathroom again?> behaving in an <please don't wear the bag of chocolate chips as a hat> angelic fashion as always.

Love, <Go stand in line with your father, I'm trying to pick out a toothbrush!>
    Mom

Rite of Passage - Radio Wars

My son has recently been deemed old enough and big enough to ride in the front seat of the car.  The benefit of this is that I no longer feel like a chauffeur when it's just me and the kids in the car.  The downside is that it puts my son within arms reach of the radio controls.  Every time he sits in the front seat he immediately wants to put on this pop crap radio station.  <shiver>  I can only hear so many songs about bimbos and partying, or partying bimbos, or losing ones partying bimbo, before I want to find the 'artists' and burn their cheesy drum machines and make them eat their auto-tuners!  Due to my refusal to listen to this station, he's tried several tactics to try and change the station when he thinks I am not paying attention.  As a result, he has learned that his Mother has excellent peripheral vision and lightning reflexes.  I am NINJA Mom!

Laundry Baskets

Dear Children,
   I admit it.  Your father and I are guilty of setting a bad example.  We have been guilty of putting off folding the laundry.  We have gone for days choosing our outfits from the unfolded laundry in the baskets.  I now see that this was an unintended bad example that we must now rectify.  For the record:  laundry baskets are not intended for permanent storage of clothing.  You have been supplied with a closet* and a dresser* for this purpose.    Therefore, when we put a basket of folded laundry in your room, it is (and always has been) expected that you will put the laundry away.  So please, put your laundry away.  I need an empty basket for the load of underwear that just finished.

Love,
Mom

*In case you have trouble finding them: The closet is the rectangular inset in your wall with the slide-y doors.  It currently is full of the stuff you pushed in there when you 'cleaned' your room.  The dresser is the large rectangular block next to your book cases with the drawers.  The drawers open and you can put stuff in them.  It is not, as you seem to believe, a fancy raised platform for your dirty dishes.

Antique? No, that can't possibly be considered an antique!

My daughter wants a typewriter for Christmas.  Lately she's been fascinated by 'older' technology.  She found her Dad's old ketchup bottle shaped telephone in the basement recently.  She brought it upstairs and insisted we plug it in.  For the next several days she made all her calls from that phone and quickly found solutions to the limitations of an old phone - lack of mobility and the need to remember phone numbers.  So, now she wants a typewriter.  When I was her age (10) typewriters were ubiquitous.  PC's and word processing were in their infancy.  I can understand her fascination with that satisfying clicky clack of the keys.  However, typewriters are hard to come by these days.  When I mentioned that they didn't make typewriters anymore, she simply said "Look in an antique store."  OUCH!

Imitations or Reflections?

Never allow a 10 year old to do an impression of you.  They will mock your Diet Coke habit* and then continue with a very unflattering interpretation of household politics and policies.  Although it does provide confirmation of what I've suspected all along - they do hear what I say, they just choose to ignore it.   I am also a supreme nag.    

*Maybe that's just me.

Symbolic Hatred

Dear Daughter,
      I respect your clothing choices of comfort over trendy fashion.  However there is one area where we disagree.  Other than some minor functionality and safety concerns due to their loose fit, there isn't technically anything wrong, but I still hate them.    They represent hundreds of dollars spent on better stuff that was discarded after the novelty wore off, only to have you go back to the known convenience and comfort.  They represent the arguments over a more appropriate alternative for an upcoming activity, only to have you ignore me and then complain when you get hurt.  They represent bad grades in gym for coming 'unprepared'.   So I have decided - as a symbol of the footwear related aggravation and grief I have endured on your behalf, your Crocs must die!

Love,
Mom

PS - I had hoped that while we were camping they would have somehow found their way too close to the fire, but there were always too many witnesses.

Optimism

Dear Husband,
      I genuinely appreciate that you put the children to bed.  You understand that by 9pm,  I have the patience of a bull at a rodeo.  However, in my recollection, our children have never stayed in bed once they've been put there.  And yet, every night you put them in bed and head down to your man cave as if you're thinking 'TONIGHT is the night they stay put and don't get up 100 times'.    Your optimism is adorable!

Love, Your Wife.