Letter to my daughter ..

Dearest Daughter,
As you are aware, mommy has been feeling a little under the weather since Wednesday when you infected me with your sickly germs. I am very proud that the value of sharing I tried to instill upon you did not fall on deaf ears. However, there are certain things in life that you absolutely should not feel obligated to share with me. Let's go over a few of those, okay love?

As I was walking out of the bedroom after 30 minutes of sleep and stumbling around in the dark, I found your laptop cord stretched through the middle of the livingroom. Your laptop is all yours sweetie, feel free to keep it in your bedroom. No really, I insist!

After untangling my foot from your cord, I promptly found your pepsi can on the floor next to the couch. I found this by taking a step with bare feet. It hurt, sweetie! Feel free to share those cans with the garbage can anytime you want, but mommy doesn't want them.

After limping to my computer chair, I sat down with a sigh of relief and was greeted with a loud CRUNCH. Upon standing I saw that you left me some sour cream and onion chips on my chair. Thank you dear, but we bought those for you. Mommy doesn't like sour cream and onion chips, and neither does her chair. Next time feel free to keep them all to yourself.

Now let's talk about some other things. Things that you SHOULD share.

I went into the kitchen to get a Pepsi and start a pot of coffee. Upon arrival in the kitchen I noticed that you made yourself 2 boxes of macaroni and cheese. I know it's 2 because the boxes were right on the counter next to the dirty pan. Next to the pan was an entire bowl of uneaten macaroni and cheese. Next time, I urge you to make ONE box and then give the other to a neighborhood kid so that it doesn't go to waste. That's when sharing is GOOD. Back to my Pepsi now. I reached in to the newly bought 12 pack and found one can alllllllll the way in the back. Thank you for leaving me ONE. That I suppose is also a good kind of sharing.

Lastly, I would like to discuss things I do not wish to share with you.

I decided to go take a shower to hopefully make myself feel a little bit better. Midway through, I reached for my body wash. I bought it a little under a month ago and normally it lasts about 5-6 months. The bottle was empty and my new lufa that I have never used smelled a lot like my body wash that magically evaporated. I bet your skin is pretty soft right now, isn't it? As you grow up and have kids of your own you will learn that you NEVER mess with a mother and her exfoliating body wash. It's the only luxury I have left.

I got out of the shower and decided to get over the body wash incident and NOT pull you from the comfort of your bed to shake you and make you tell me why you hate me. That's about the time I was reaching for my toothbrush. You know, the blue one. I know mine is the blue one because I bought a 2 pack of blue and green and you could have won an oscar for your melt down performance on why you refused to use the blue one. (Blue is for boys and you are NOT a boy you are A GIRL and girls need pretty things!!!! (sobsobsnifflemylifeisoverwhydoyouhatemesnifflesobdoorslam)  Moving on....

My blue toothbrush had green sparkly toothpaste on it. I don't use green sparkly toothpaste. I use white stuff that comes out of a sample tube that grandma gave me because I can't afford my own after the 10 dollar bottle of green sparkly toothpaste you HAD TO HAVE! My dear child, STEP AWAY FROM MY TOOTHBRUSH! Is nothing sacred anymore?! I guess now I know how you so lovingly shared your germs with me.

I would also at this time like to address my makeup. I use makeup because if I don't, people run away screaming. I don't like to scare small children and this makeup is a tool to prevent that from happening. You have your own to play with that I bought for you so you would stop wasting mine. USE YOUR OWN!!! I can not afford for you and the 7 neighborhood girls that invade my house daily to use my makeup and hair products for play. Step away from the makeup drawer or you will find yourself super glued to the back of your door while I blast my "lame" music at the level you play yours.

You will probably never read this as you are usually too busy complaining about your lame mom to the brigade of 9 to 12 year old kids you march through my house every waking moment. I suppose it's for the best since I have no energy left to fight with you. Regardless, I love you so very much!

Sincerely,
Your lame mother