Letters I never intend to send

I love writing letters. Especially ones with such raw emotion, with vigor….I love vigor, and you can vent all your angers, frustrations, hurts, and sadness without repercussion or worries. So today while battling with Pickles Magoo on his napping (or failure to take one) I thought I might take a moment to relax. Catch up on my friends’ blogs and all they have going when I hear screams…two to be precise coming from down the hall. One is Pickles Magoo, with a faint choking sound, and the other is Big G again a faint sound of distress and I am unsure so I jump from my chair and book it to the intersection of three doors.

I felt like Bob Barker should have jumped out with flashing lights from the Price is Right to help be choose a door because I opened all of them. No new car…damn. Twins in their cribs, no one is choking, okay onto door number three. NOT door number three. Please oh please…..why did I have to open door number three.

While nothing Earth shattering….or at least not in my mind….had taken place, Big G was standing in a mess the was preemptively caused by his loving, and sometimes clueless father whom I love, adore, and wanted to strangle.

There I stood….in the bathroom with water, I will go with water so I feel okay, under my feet and three screaming kids. Armed with nothing I scrambled for the plunger. All the towels were in the wash….Cheese and rice who’s bright idea was it to wash all the towels today!? Oh right, me. I plunge the toilet cursing Big G’s fathers name over and over and handle that small fire. Run into the Squids room to handle their fire…….still reeling in my anger and frustration I sat down to write this letter to DH that I never intend to send:

My dear love,

I understand nature comes calling. We all, as beings upon this Earth, either animal, insect, and or bird will generate excrement of sorts that must be expelled from our bodies for proper operations. However, your asshole is no different than any other in this household. Each of us has an asshole, each of us will take a heinous shit from time to time. These do not mean that you qualify to use MORE toilet paper than usual to wipe an asshole that quite frankly is the size of a quarter. Your ass on the other hand may be large, but your starfish is much smaller. Please take heed next time you wipe your ass that if you require a double flush to hang around and flush that second or maybe a third time so as to avoid a high speed blow out for me to clean up. Otherwise I will suggest you take the “Proper Ass Wiping Class” with your five year old son in order to learn proper technique and adequate toilet paper consumption. Thanks again for playing, have a great day.

Your loving wife and Plunger Employer Extraordinaire,

I felt so much better to have gotten that out and we never had to fight about it. I just told him how we had a clog….preemptively caused by him, and all was right again.

3 Replies to “Letters I never intend to send”

  1. I think this is a great Father's Day letter! LMAO!

    You my dear, have kiwis. My husband would kill me then die of embarrassment if I posted something like that!

    LOVE IT! You crack me up!

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