Who Says the Art of Writing Letters is Dead?

Dear charity-seeking neighbor,

We have never met. In fact, I don't even have a nodding acquaintance with anyone in your section of the cul-de-sac. And yet you sent me this request for a donation to your favorite cause. I am not sure why this bothers me more than if your group had sent me a direct donation request, but it does. Am I suppose to think, "Gee, I'll give my charity dollars to THIS charity because the lady down the street supports it,"? Here's the thing; I don't know you. You could be a Tea Party member. Or a Klan member (same difference?). Living on my street doesn't tell me anything about your personality. As for your charity, I have only vaguely heard of it and your donation request offered no information. So, no, I won't be sending them any money. Ever.

Sincerely,

The loud woman from down the street

Dear leaf-blower addicts,

You are not making the world a better place. You are a leading contributor of noise and air pollution. You are wasting precious gas. And by tonight, all that crap you blew off the sidewalk will be right back where it started. Special note to the landscapers of my neighborhood: STOP using the LEAF-BLOWER around my patio, you are actually blowing dirt onto it. Also, stop moving my chairs.

Seriously,

The messy lady on the end

Dear old people who coo at my son

Thank you for smiling instead of wincing when he starts screaming. Thank you for engaging him when I run out of energy. I bet none of you own leaf-blowers. In short, I love you.

Thanks,

The tired lady with the screaming toddler

Dear Ben & Jerry's,

Stop putting crack in your ice cream. I know it's in there, because ever since I had "Chocolate Therapy" the other night, I can't stop craving it. Just once and I am totally hooked. . .just like all those people on Intervention and Addiction. My husband swears that you are good guys and would never do something so dangerous. He says it's MY problem. So could you please announce that you're taking the crack out? Then I can prove that I'm right and stop the cravings.

Thanks,

The lady who is running out of elastic-waist pants

Dear NBC,

First you wouldn't spend the money to advertise how awesome Friday Night Lights is. Then you put Jay Leno on all the time, when Jay is just not that funny to people under 70. Then you screw Conan O'Brien, who is not only funny but classier than you'll ever be. If you fuck with Mercy, 30 Rock or Community, you're dead to me.

Sincerely,

The lady who watches way too much TV

The Scanner Fairy

So this morning I had to go to the grocery store. With all 3 kids. I know there are some moms who bring their 6 well-behaved kids to the grocery each week, along with their lists and their coupons.

I am not one of those moms.

I try to do my grocery shopping when the older two are in preschool and Hot Guy is able to watch the toddler. I am lucky if I remember to bring my list or my coupons, because I have yet to manage to bring both.

It is not that my kids are bad at the grocery store. Generally, they are pretty good - so good, in fact, that I often bring home more junk food than I'd intended. Because they ask so politely. And they've walked in the aisles without hitting each other. It's just that I have a hard time having 3 simultaneous conversations, remembering what I want to buy and using the scanner correctly.

In retrospect, I probably should have skipped the scanner. But I like scanning as I go, because that means I can bag as I go and then I don't get stressed out at the checkout. Besides, I thought Ironflower and Lovebug would like using the scanner. As usual, I was wrong about what they'd like. ChunkyMonkey was the only one who liked the scanner. As in, he liked eating the scanner.

Despite the wrestling matches that ensued every time I had to take the scanner away from ChunkyMonkey to actually use it, I made it through most of the store in a fairly good state. In the juice aisle, however, all 3 kids needed me at the exact same second, which also happened to be the second that I was trying to scan juice boxes. So I put the scanner down.

Somewhere.

After dealing with each kid's issue, I reached for the scanner so that we could resume shopping and get the hell out of there. But the scanner was not in the cart. Or under the cart. Or next to the juice boxes. Or in my bags. Or in ChunkyMonkey's hands.

I had a sudden vision of having to go up to the customer service counter and tell them that I lost a scanner. I realized that I would have to start shopping all over again. I ordered Lovebug and Ironflower to look. I muttered exasperatedly. Finally, I said loudly, "How could a scanner just disappear?"

The elderly man behind us averted his eyes. He'd witnessed the whole thing and didn't even give me a smile of sympathy. Fortunately, another mom came by. She discovered the scanner on the shelf under the juice. Where I hadn't looked, because why would I put it under the juice? That would just be dumb. I thanked her profusely. I was reminded that there are still good people in the world. I will be forever grateful to the scanner fairy. My heart soared until I noticed the sour old man.

He pushed his cart by us, shaking his head. I think he saw me put the scanner under the juice and was too afraid to interrupt my rant. Or he's the scanner troll.