Dear Kid,

Winter is coming! Unless it’s Spring. No, I think it’s winter. Except it’s 90 degrees outside. Wait, wait, that’s snow. Definitely winter.

More like definitely confusing. The weather has no idea if it’s coming or going. And it doesn’t seem to care one bit that Mr. Phil Groundhog himself already declared that winter will stick around. It seems Mother Nature trumps Mr. Groundhog each and every time and right now Mother Nature is suffering from an Advanced Case of Indecision.

Meanwhile, your father has tapped the maple grove (and by “maple grove” I mean the one maple tree in our front yard). The first day the sap ran (or sort of meandered—I think it forgot its jogging shoes) into the spile and the jug. Then nothing seemed to actually happen. Turns out the sap has frozen. In the spile. In the tubing. And in the jug. Maple syrup will have to wait.

In other news, I’ve heard rumors that the Dust Dragons are organizing and plan to take over. I’ve considered sending the Puppy as an envoy, but I’m concerned he’ll get eaten. I’ve thought about attacking with the vacuum cleaner, but that seems like a somewhat rash and unnecessary act of housekeeping. I’m hoping they’ll just settle down and go back to being decorative.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Speaking of things that aren’t going to happen, we got mail today addressed to The Parents Of:

In this particular case it was addressed tTPO your sister, but that’s not really the relevant part. It could have been to tTPO any college kid.

It was from – wait for it – the University’s residence halls association offering – wait for it – laundry service.

Yes, for a mere billion dollars, they will pick up, check pockets, pretreat, sort, wash, dry, fold (meticulously), package, and delivery laundry.

Wait, they fold meticulously, but nothing else meticulously?

And, get this, they “check each load for complete drying.” Gee, I thought they’d deliver soggy laundry.

They match socks and fold in pairs. (That’s different from folding meticulously.) I’m almost tempted to sign Pi up just to see how they handle someone who never wears matching socks.

In my opinion, college kids should be able to do their own laundry. It’s part of the experience. It’s a life skill. If you’re in the dorm, the washers are handy.

I suppose there are circumstances under which a kid couldn’t do laundry. But the scenarios I’m imagining involve things a lot more serious than dirty jeans.

Then there’s the cost. There are a variety of plans depending on how much laundry you plan to have, and they range from Expensive to You Can Buy Your Own Washer-Dryer For That Much! I know.

Laughing all the way to the recycle bin.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

I’ve decided this is the Summer of Cleaning, not to be confused with the Fall of Cleaning, the Winter of Cleaning, the Moment of Cleaning, Spring Cleaning, the Ultimate Month of Cleaning, or my twice annual teeth cleaning (all of which were colossal failures except the dental visits).

My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint. ~Erma Bombeck

But Dad and I have decided to methodically tackle some of the worst parts of the house. We’re determined to at least slow the territorial expansion of the Dust Dragons.

Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing. ~Phyllis Diller

My original idea was to somehow figure out how to get the house clean while I was sleeping (think Roomba on steroids) but I don’t know how to invent that and I have yet to figure out how to get elves to do the work.

It would be great if you and Pi were going to be here to help with the Great Clean Out, but since you’re going to be away most of the summer, I’ve invented a new protocol: Virtual Cleaning.

I’m not going to vacuum until Sears makes one you can ride on. ~Roseanne Barr

Here’s how Virtual Cleaning works (I tried it yesterday). When I come across something I have questions about I take a photo, send it to the child in question, and request a disposition decision.

Yesterday, Dad and I donned hazmat gear and attacked the laundry room.

I now know why this room is often referred to as a mud room.

Text to Pi: Three pairs of boots. Which ones stay?
Text reply: Black ones stay. Dots dead.

And with that, the black boots went to the garbage. Easy peasy, or at least that’s what I thought.

My idea of housework is to sweep the room with a glance. ~Erma Bombeck

Me: These go in the garbage.
Dad: But we might be able to use them for something.
Me: We can use them to keep the garbage collectors employed for another week.
Dad: We can’t throw them away!
Me: We can.
Dad: Someone can wear them.
Me: They’re too small for anyone here.
Dad: We can give them to Goodwill.
Me: They have huge holes.
Dad: We can fix them!
Me: Garbage!
Puppy: Did you say we can go for a walk?

See how easy this is going to be?

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

It’s April 30^th.

Which means it’s National Hairstyle Appreciation Day. And National Honesty Day. And rainy and humid.

Which means if we’re really going to “honor” today, we’d have to go around telling people how much we love their horrible hairdo.

Personally, I suggest skipping the talking and moving straight to the balloons and cookies.

There are balloons and cookies aren’t there?

If you’re feeling excessively festive, we can throw in a quick salute to National Karaoke Week and National Welder’s Month.

In other celebratory news, do you know what happens when you overfill the single-serve coffee maker? Yep. You have the wonderful opportunity of cleaning up the kitchen counter. In completely unrelated news, our kitchen counters are looking exceptionally clean at the moment.

Have a great day, kiddo. Try to stay dry in all the rain and drizzle and try not to give yourself unplanned reasons to clean.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

I’ve finally figured out the problem with Life, the Universe, and Everything (extra points if you get the reference).

The problem is that the Way I Want the World To Be is not (unfortunately) the Way the World Is.

Which is sad.

For example, the Way I Want the World To Be is I can eat as much chocolate as I want and still lose weight. The Way the World Actually Is is that my scale says, “Bwah ha hahahahahaha. Ha.”

The Way I Want the World to Be is elves show up to clean the house. The Way the World Actually Is is the dust dragons say “Mwahhhhhahhahahaha.”

There is the distinct possibility that the chocolate and the elves have both been eaten by the dust dragons.

The Way I Want the World to Be is people taking care of their animals in a safe and loving way. The Way the World Actually Is is Rescue Shelters.

The Way I Want the World to Be is me sleeping half an hour later than usual because I have everything ready and I don’t have any early meetings. The Way the World Actually Is is me up at 4:45am because Awake Happened.

The Way I Want the World to Be is I’m Queen of the World (or at least my own little part of it). The Way the World Actually Is is that I’m Queen of the World (at least my own little—very little—part of it). Well, more like I’m Queen of my car when I’m the only one in it.

I’ll take what I can get. At least until the rest of the world catches up.

Love, Mom