Nov 6, 2011

Sunday night letters

Dear Cordera Ward members,

Did you see those crazy kids at church today?  The ones who were screaming and fighting over crayons before the opening prayer?  White shirts and ties did nothing to mask the insane behavior on that row.  Man, the oldest one even blew a spit wad at the kid in front of him during the closing song.  That family will have to be pretty brave to show up again next week.

Oh, wait.  That was my family.


Mama Bartle

Dear Ensign editors,

I'm so glad that the General Conference edition of your magazine arrived in my mailbox this week!  Reading this message on Saturday night definitely brightened my dreary outlook.  And way to turn up the tech by adding QR Codes to the First Presidency messages!  That rocks!


A trying-to-be-faithful Latter-day Saint

Dear John Archambault,

I love, love, love Chicka Chicka Boom Boom.  Love.  And so does Lexi.

That is all.

From the reader with rockin' rhythm

Dear Lexi,

Your hot pink fingernails and toenails are darling.  But, once again, another day has passed and I have not painted my own toenails.  You should feel special.



Dear generic Vicks Vapo-rub,

Garry rubbed you all over Gavin's and Lexi's feet tonight and then tucked those feet into socks.  Please make their yucky coughs go away.  Especially Gavin's, because I want him to go to school.

Hoping for a miracle,

The one who hasn't caught it yet

Dear Stephen's Chocolate Mint Truffle hot cocoa, are so dang good.  When I drink you I forget for a while that I am paying a million dollars to heat my drafty house.  You are worth all the cold weather in the world, especially with a sprinkling of Andes Mint chips and a few marshmallows.  I'm sure I will regret my copious consumption of your delectable goodness in a few weeks when I see our family pictures.  But today I might just buy stock in your company.


A fan

Dear Kate,

So here's the million-dollar question: Formula or Mama's Milk?  Could you just give me an answer?  One way or the other, I need to make a decision, and while it is academic to some, it is agonizing for me.  What will help you grow?  What will make you happy?  What will help you sleep through the night?  What will make you feel most loved?

I'll expect your answer in the morning.  A message in the sky would be just fine.



Dear fourth grade teacher,

Zach's terrarium/aquarium project has been a dismal failure.  Our idea to moisten Zach's terrarium plants with milk has provided a unique contrast to the watered plants in the classroom, but the result is mostly gross.  The milk dripped into the aquarium, killed four fish, and generally created a murky bog that is starting to stink.  Blech.  We haven't even started the pollution portion of the project, and I'm ready for the whole thing to find a new home in a landfill far, far away.

On a related note, one of the goldfish Zach brought home from our church Halloween party seems strong and hearty.  Zach doesn't think the fish is an actual goldfish, which may explain its longevity.  I think it is still alive because it doesn't have a name.  None of us expected it to live longer than 24 hours.

Zach's mom

Dear ambition,

Where have you gone?  Two weeks ago I was exercising, sewing, and mopping my floor. Today I'm eating ice cream out of the carton, ignoring the cluttered counters, and looking at the pile of fabric on my dining room table in fear and trepidation.

I think Kate's feeding issues and the mastitis scared you off, and understandably so.  But once Kate completes her sky-writing project in the morning, feel free to show up again. This household could seriously use your help.


The slug
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