Dear Kid,

It’s going to get blamed on me. It’s not exactly my fault, but people often overlook the kitchen table as a Viable Culprit. I am definitely going to get blamed.

Today is Uncle Sean’s birthday.

I bought a card about two weeks ago. It’s a great card in general. It is a particularly great card for Uncle Sean.

I made sure to have Pi sign it last weekend before she left for one of her various activities. I left it for you and Dad to sign. I’m pretty sure it was at that point that the kitchen table stepped in.

We have a nice kitchen table. It’s generally pretty understanding about having various condiments and beverages spilled on it. It’s accommodating when someone dumps a knapsack on it. It doesn’t generally shove a large pile of papers onto the floor when someone leaves them too near the edge. Every now and then it will reach out and bite someone on the ankle, but for the most part it is very well behaved.

Up until now.

Maybe the scale was a bad influence; I’m not sure.

The table took the card and slid it into a time warp. Not a big time warp mind you, just a handy, card-sized pocket of a time warp. Then it sat quietly and watched.

The thing about time warps is that you don’t notice them. When you look at them, your eyes slide right around to the other side without noticing that you’re overlooking the important part. Like magicians, only moreso.

For the last week, I’ve overlooked the card—not on purpose, but because of the time warp and the kitchen table. It’s not until I’m about to fall asleep or at work (it can be hard to tell the two apart) that I think “Uncle Sean’s birthday is coming up. I MUST get that card in the mail tomorrwwwww…zzzzz….”

Google put an end to the problem when it popped up a calendar reminder this morning.

It is well-known that Google (with or without the Alphabet) is stronger than most (but not all) of the kitchen tables in the world.

As I marched downstairs this morning, I therefore muttered in my sternest voice, “Now would be an excellent time to put that card right back where you found it.”

Kitchen tables have excellent hearing. There’s no need to yell if you know what you’re doing.

Lo and behold, there was the card happily waiting to be sealed in an envelope and sent eastward.

The kitchen table didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed.

Which left only one problem.

The USPS can’t pick up here and deliver there on the same day.

Which means Uncle Sean’s birthday card will be late.

Happy birthday Uncle Sean! From all of us (except the kitchen table who is currently in a time out).

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

We are halfway through the year. Happy half birthday 2015! Happy almost birthday USA! Happy Birthday Canada (Yes, it’s Canada Day)!

Yet, on a day full of happy, I am still thinking about the lady I saw yesterday.

I went to the restroom at the end of the day (the better to not walk into the gym with my legs crossed yelling “I’ll be right back to show you my ID!”). There was a lady in there I’d never seen before who was changing the toilet paper rolls.

Putting in new rolls of tp is not a bad thing.

She said to me, “I guess we need someone to come up and do this midday, too.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I smiled and washed my hands.

Then she threw out the not-yet-empty rolls of toilet paper.

I didn’t know what to say to that either, so I dried my hands.

I’m guessing from her comment that (maybe) she’s with the cleaning crew. Maybe not since there was no evidence of cleaning stuff with her and it was a bit early for that.

The rolls that she threw out still had (in my professional opinion) 3 average tp uses on them.

I would have understood (and applauded) her changing out the rolls so there was a full roll on the rod and putting the not-quite-done ones on top.

I would have understood (although perhaps not applauded) if she’d taken the rolls to recycling.

I would even have understood (although definitely not applauded) if she’d taken away the offending run down rolls to use in the privacy of her own home.

But to throw them out?

It has been scientifically proven that the paper on the inside of the toilet paper roll is no less effective than the tp at the outside of the roll.

And we wonder where pollution comes from.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Facebook said “Today is Little Annie’s 16^th birthday.”

I said, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Facebook said, “Really, it is her birthday.”

I said, “Oh, I believe it’s her birthday, but not that she’s 16. She’s Little Annie because she’s a little girl. If she were all grown up she’d be called All Grown Up Annie.”

Facebook said, “Maybe you haven’t seen her for a while. She’s definitely 16.”

I said, “It seems more probably to me that you miscounted.”

Facebook said, “That’s not how reality works.”

I said, “That’s one of the reasons I form my own reality. Yours keeps causing improbable things to happen. Like little girls growing up.”

Facebook said, “Perhaps you should look in the mirror.”

I said, “I am still as young as ever.”

Facebook said, “You’ve taught your mirror to lie well.”

Facebook is impertinent.

I’d like to say Facebook and I aren’t on speaking terms anymore but that’s even more ridiculous than Little Annie being old enough to drive. Especially since I plan to send Annie a FB message that says “Happy 12^th Birthday” so that we can return reality to the world.

While we’re at it, you don’t need to grow up so quickly either.

Love, Mom

P.S. Annie–do NOT text and drive. EVER.

Dear Kid,

Yesterday was a great day.

I got a great balloon…

…complete with a zero calorie cupcake.

I got a fruit basket (awesome!), I was taken to lunch, and I went shopping with Pi. For her.

After Dad took Booker for his bedtime walk, he yelled to me “Don’t move, don’t move, I’ve got one more present for you. Wait right there, I’ve got one more present!”

Here is my “one more present.” After the photo, my “one more present” was returned to not-in-the-house!

Thanks for calling yesterday.

Love you baby,

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Once again we have rounded the weekly corner and it is Monday.

For some people, Mondays are to be dreaded as they involve going back to school or work and returning to the weekday routine.

For other people, Mondays are to be celebrated as they involve going back to school or work and returning to the weekday routine.

And for still others, Mondays are simply Mondays.

For the Puppy, Mondays are exciting because every day is exciting. One of the great things about dogs is they have a very low bar for excitement. Morning! Fantastic. Air molecules! How wonderful!

How you feel about Mondays has a great deal to do with how you feel about your life in general. When you’re in a good place, Mondays may not be the Best of All Possible Things, but they are generally not hideous. When you’re life is not all it needs to be, Mondays can be pretty bad.

If you’re happy today is Monday, YAY! Happy Monday, and may you have a wonderful week.

If you’re not happy to find yourself facing another Monday, take a look at your life and think about what you might be able to change to make Mondays more bearable. After all, Mondays constitute 1/7 of your life. That’s a lot of time to dread.

And if you should be lucky enough for this particular Monday to be your birthday, then you are a very lucky bunny indeed. And I hope it is an exceptionally wonderful birthday.

Love, Mom