Dearest Sweet Children,
Your mother is writing you this letter to inform you that she is taking a vacation day today. She will not wipe runny noses, and will most definitely not load the dishwasher. If you would like to leave your matchbox cars all over the living room floor for others to step on that is fine, but do not look upon her in wonderment when you accidentally step on one with your pudgy little feet. I fully hope lunch can make itself, but in the off chance that it won’t, there’s slices of cheese and a jar of strawberry jelly in the refrigerator that should give you sustenance until your father comes home.
Some of you, over the course of the day, may find yourselves desperate for a diaper change. I repeat. MOMMY IS ON VACATION. ( She’s curled up on the couch under a blanket daydreaming about scubal activities in the Caribbean.) I’m sure if you grab a diaper and stand on the curb, some strange passer by will fall pray to your big baby blues and assist you in the changing of said diaper.
Should you feel the need to wash your face, stay away from the running water. There are baby wipes on the changing table. Should you feel the need to play in the running water anyway, that’s ok, because mommy has already punched out for her vacation day. She’ll worry about the mess tomorrow.
If there is an emergency you can reach mommy by screaming key words such as “fire!” and “call 911!’, otherwise save it for daddy. She’ll be checking back in with you all tomorrow. Please don’t feed the dog peanut butter, and be sure and watch all the cartoons you would like.
19 minutes ago