Dear Mother Who Seems to be Fishing for Friendly Remarks about Your Demonic Son:
You won't be getting any from me.
The teacher who doesn't get paid enough to deal with your child's behavior issues and whose pregnancy has made her less inclined to pretend that she does
P.S. Last time I checked, your precious, irresponsible cherub is in tenth grade, not second. I'm not sure exactly when he missed that memo. . .
Dear Lower Back Pain,
I suspect you may be Sciatica. The fact that I had to brace myself against a table yesterday while teaching (to stop myself from screaming in agony) kind of made me think so. When I had to limp to avoid putting weight on my left leg, it only solidified the suspicion. I will be discussing this with the midwife at my next appointment. I don't appreciate the stabbing pain in my lower lumbar. I get that I didn't have to vomit for six months like a lot of women do while pregnant, and I know I should be grateful that this is my only real burden to bear (although becoming pudgy has not been too pleasant either). Even so, I would appreciate it if you stayed away for awhile. Let's try to have more days like today, when I didn't feel you at all.
The woman who has been forced to give up her heels for flats
Dear Mr. Shakespeare,
I am very excited to celebrate your birthday tomorrow. Just saying your name makes me long for an escape to the London theatre. Whether I am reading your tragedies, comedies, or sonnets, my thoughts and feelings for you never change.
The woman who wishes she was in London buying tickets to your plays, instead of teaching high school English
Dear Carnation Instant Breakfast,
I really have learned to "love you in an instant." Thanks for saving my life this week. It makes it so much easier to get some calories into my empty tummy while running out the door when all I have to do is add a package of your chocolate-y goodness to a glass of milk and stir. While I know I have been irresponsible by sleeping until 6:45 every morning when I know I can't get ready in 30 minutes, I appreciate you standing by me.
The epitome of the anti-morning person
I apologize profusely for telling my husband I didn't want you. When he insisted you were the one article of furniture he wanted to inherit from his grandfather, I kind of thought you were . . . ugly. Or at least that you would look out of place in my house. I have seen the error of my ways. You are the only place I feel complete comfort while sleeping. After giving up sleeping on my back, being able to recline in your leathery, soft embrace is heaven. You have given me some of the best naps of my life recently, and for that I am grateful.
A woman who is contemplating sleeping in you every night
Dear Wonderful Husband,
I am sorry that I woke you up at 3:00 in the morning when I shattered a water glass on our bathroom floor. Before today, stumbling around in the dark on multiple potty trips during the night has worked pretty flawlessly. Thank you for coming to my rescue with a broom and dustpan without being asked, and for not complaining once. I thought it was really sweet, heroic even. I love you.