This is a little late in coming this month because when I sat down to write this last week, it looked a lot like this:
You’ve been sick for almost a month now. Stop
And since that didn’t seem to be in the spirit of these letters, I decided to let it ride a few days and see if I could come up with something better. This is not much better, but here it goes.
This month you have begun to kind of half ass attempt at communicating with us. You’ve had so much diarrhea that it makes your butt hurt so bad, that you’ve finally decided to tell us when you poop. Which is a blessing. Except when it’s 4 times in a 10 minute span. Then it’s not so much a blessing as much as we wish you could recognize the end of it and then tell us. However, while I went to Walgreens to pick up some pedialyte you did tell your father that you needed the vapor rub stuff on your feet. And then socks. And what about jammies? You’re like a little adult with the parenting of yourself.
You’re starting to whack the dogs a little harder than I think you should, so we’ll be working harder on being nice to them in the first place instead of whacking them and then, oh yeah, I’m supposed to be nice, and hugging them.
This has been the month of the pool for you. It’s finally warm enough to get in. And we’ve taken a chance a few times and gotten in despite the illness. Most of the time it worked out for us. MOST of the time.
Oh yeah, don’t drink and drive.
P.S. No, seriously. Get to feeling better.