I don't spell out the word t-o-y when saying "no t-o-y in the Happy Meal, please" to show off my gold star spelling skills, I spell out the word t-o-y because the LAST thing my kids need is another piece of plastic doodad laying around on the floor where I'll inevitably crush it into my foot at 2am responding to a screaming child and inevitably say a word I'll regret saying the next day when my bigger little repeats it twenty hundred times. Inevitably. Not like they need chicken nuggets made of pink gooey looking meat (I saw it on the internet so it's true!), either, but we were running late and I had a car full of groceries to put away and I was tired and so whatever. I ordered the apple slices and milk, at least. So anyway, lady, when I spell out the t-o-y word, maybe DON'T respond by shouting out "huh? What? You said no TOY? Is that what you said, no TOY?" Because now you just sold me out to my two year old who's eyeing me suspiciously in the rearview mirror like he's thinking "wait, there are TOYS in there and you never TOLD ME?" Thanks a lot, order taker lady.
Are you even for real right now? It was 46 degrees at 10am. FORTY SIX! Get your act together before June, would you? Because I'm pretty sure I'm going to cry if I'm still spending a half hour every night covering my poor baby plants much longer. And also there's an outdoor wedding on June 11 and I'd very much like to not have to wear a snowsuit to watch the happy couple say "I do." So please get summery now, okay?
Dear Missouri River,
Please lay off this flooding business. You're scaring some of my loved ones, most notably everyone's favorite Auntie Peg. I'm hoping and praying you don't flood their house or anyone else's house either, and if some of yall reading this want to say a prayer for that same thing, that would be really greatly appreciated. (Love you, Auntie Peggy!)
Dear Everybody In The Public Places We Go To,
Please stop commenting on my adorable boys. I have one boy, that one right there with the truck/airplane/other boyish thing on his shirt. That other one, sitting up in the front of the cart? The one with the big pink butterfly on her puffy sleeved t-shirt, wearing purple lace trimmed leggings and blowing kisses all over the place? That would be a GIRL. I know. She's bald. She's got the same hairdo as you do old bald guy, hardy ho ho har, never heard that one before. But she's a girl (and anyway, who said bald = boy?) And while the baby boy comments didn't bug me so much when she was a tiny baby (because let's face it, babies kind of do look like genderless blobs), they're starting to grate my nerves now that she's a toddler girl who I dress as such. She's wearing pink and purple and sparkles. If you're still unsure of her gender after taking in the pink and the purple and sparkles, maybe just try "cute kids!" so I don't feel like smacking you and/or super gluing a big pink bow to her head. Thanks in advance for your cooperation.
Dear Circus Goers,
Have you seen this link right HERE? If you haven't, look at it now. Because I drove by the circus setting up shop in our town today, and it took all I had not to cry just thinking of the abysmal lives those sweet animals packed into semi trucks are living. If you can even call it living, because if you ask me, being subjected to abuse and torture and cramped living quarters is not living at all. Please look at that link and reconsider your future circus attendance until circuses are kind and happy places for all living creatures.