Dear Possessed and Dying Toy That I Can't Find,
Stop playing your death knell every time I come in to the dark living room at six thirty in the morning to turn on the light and scaring the bejeezus out of me. Your warbling is freaking me out. Either show yourself so I can put you out of your misery or JUST DIE ALREADY!!
Dear Feral Cat,
Quit storming the damn house! I will not let you in no matter how many times you try to dart inside. I'm not a cat person and you're making my limping fifteen year old dog insecure since she can't run you off. Keep your mangy ass out of my house!
Dear Youngest Urchin,
Stop asking me what something means and then halfway through my explanation try and drown me out with I knows. I understand you're only four, but it's driving me crazy.
I love you! xoxo
Dear Upstairs Toilet,
Will you just do your damn job and flush consistently already? You're driving me bat-shit-crazy with the plunging every damn day! Just frickin' flush right!
Ahhhhh, now that I have that out of my system I can tell you what I really came here to tell you. My Reign as the County 'Possum Queen has come to an end. Sorry if that announcement was too abrupt. Maybe I should have eased you into it a little, but, alas, I'm one of those rip-the-band-aid-off-and-deal-with-it kind of people.
Anyway, it happened early last month, but it's been a little too hard to talk about until now. I will give you the entire run-down of that sad day later this week to give you time to adjust to the news.
Until then, tell me what craziness you'd like to address with an open letter.
From the pit (of despair)
4 hours ago