Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Dear My Child,

I get that you're proud of being tall (YOU'RE WELCOME since it's from my end of the gene pool) and are thrilled to be able to touch the top of every door frame in the house, but if I have to spend one more second of my life scrubbing your grubby fingerprints off of said door frames, I'm going to shove you into a burlap sack and drown you in the nearest river like a litter of unwanted kittens*.

So either cut that shit out, or learn to use a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.

xxoo,

me




*totally kidding, of course, I'd never do that to even one kitten, let alone a litter of them.

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting, letter to