Dear Kid,

Some things age better than others.

The green beans I forgot to cook and eventually discovered in the back of the refrigerator did not age well.

Ice cream cakes do not age well.

Grudges do not age well. Too often the hurt and anger remain long after the reason for the grudge is forgotten.

Fashions do not generally age well. Style is – by definition – transient. Just think of some of the trends of the ‘50s, ‘60s, and ‘70s. Worse yet, think of the “must haves” from just a few years ago that you would never-in-a-million-years even consider wearing again.

On the other hand, some things continue to improve with age.

Much of the famous art in the world wasn’t worth much when it was created but is now way, way, waaaay out of your price range.

A great pair of jeans only gets better with age. As long as they are timeless jeans. The trendy ripped jeans will disintegrate and look dated as they age (which is OK, because they look GREAT now).

Leather jackets, the kind that are real, well-made leather, turn warm and buttery soft with age. Yum.

Antiques age well. Otherwise, they’d be called “brokens.”

Wine and whiskey age well. Usually they get better the older they are (unless the wine turns into vinegar, in which case you probably have the fixings for a really good salad dressing, so that’s good too).

Grandfathers definitely get better with age. Calls yours to say Happy Birthday.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Grandma is in the hospital for a few days. Knowing her, this is not easy since they expect you to rest and relax and follow their rules when you’re in the hospital.

Grandma is not known for resting and relaxing on someone else’s schedule.

So being the kind of kid I am, I turned to My Friend the Internet for ideas on how to entertain oneself when one is supposed to be Taking It Easy rather than scaling mountains.

And MFTI let me down. In a big way.

Oh, there were ideas. They were just 17 kinds of awful. Maybe 18.

So I turned to The People of Facebook for ideas, and TPoF did not let me down. (Thank you FB friends!)

In no particular order, here are

• Books, audio books, Kindle books
• Movies
• Knitting
• Adult coloring books (‘Adult’ as in ‘for grown ups’ not as in ‘XXX’)
• Sudoku and crosswords
• Magazines
• Play soothing spa music in your room so the nurses hang out there
• Organize photos for albums (which sounds like work to me)
• Investigate the family tree through Ancestry.com

Nobody mentioned “Talk to the nurses about your grandchildren” or “Tell the medical staff about DearKidLoveMom.com”; clearly an oversight.

Of all the great suggestions, my all-time fave was (wait for it): Bring her some scrap metal and an arc welder. (Yep, I am still giggling too.)

Mostly, I hope she’ll relax, rest, recover, and head home soon. Those would be good things to add to a hospital to-do list.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Every now and then the Universe pops up and hands me a little present. I am always careful to say “Thank you” most politely because that’s what one does when the Universe goes out of its way to be kind.

A few years ago, the gift was when doctors decided that wine has important health benefits and therefore a cup full of vino is the medicine going down. Yippee and Thank You.

Then the medical profession decided that coffee has heart benefits. This has nothing to do with actual benefits (I’m sure it’s just great marketing from the coffee cartel) but what do I care whether it’s real or not? The docs say “Drink coffee,” I say make it a strong one. And Thank You.

The best part is that I never intended to change my behavior (Coffee’s not good for me? Unfortunate. I’ll still drink the same amount.). But having the Universe’s blessing for my behavior makes me feel loved and special and much less guilty.

Now, once again, the Universe has handed out a completely unexpected present. This one may be the silliest one ever, but since it is a Proven Scientific and Medical Fact, who am I to argue?

The Universe has declared that it is unhealthy to make your bed every morning.

Didn’t see that one coming, did you?

This, of course, proves that I am The Most Knowing of All Mothers You’ve Ever Had because I only insisted you actually make your bed about twice a year (on the same days I made my bed—namely, when Grandma was visiting). I am so far ahead of my time, it’s crazy.

You do not need to point out that “ahead of my time” and “lazy” in this case refer to the same thing.

I don’t particularly care for bed-making. I find it is a great way to break my nails and all I do is mess it up a pretty bed all over again. It’s a thankless job (in my opinion) so I skip it on a regular basis (and by “regular basis” I mean “daily”). It’s perfectly fine with me if someone else makes the bed; in fact, I like climbing in to a freshly made bed. I just don’t like it enough to do the actual bed-making in the first place.

There are people who do like making the bed (or who think they do since the habit is so ingrained). To them I say “Have at it” just don’t ask me to do the same thing. And now the Universe says we have a Good Excuse not to make the bed.

The reason making your bed is unhealthy is dust mites. Dust mites are the invisible creatures who live in our linens and chow down on the billions of skin cells we shed. The dust mites poop invisible mite poop and we sneeze. Not good for the allergy-affiliated among us. (In a scientifically significant oversight, it turns out that dust mites and dust dragons are not related.)

It turns out that dust mites prefer nice moist skin cells. The kind that get tucked in every morning when someone makes the bed. They are much less excited about eating dried up skin cells (the kind that dry out every day when you don’t make the bed).

So now you have a scientific reason for not making the bed. And sneezing is once again entirely up to you.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

What a lovely day in South Florida yesterday. Grandma and Grandpa and I made HUGE progress on the apartment. Every dish—out of the cupboard, clean the cupboard, sort the dishes, get rid of a bunch, everyone back in the pool. Repeat with the spice cabinet.

Then we went crazy and bought a new drying rack and real-size wine glasses at Target. I was going to buy Boggle to leave here, but there was a Major Flaw in the System: Target (at least the one we visited) did not carry Boggle. I would say something like “it boggles the mind” but you’d probably raise an eyebrow if I did.

We also visited Cousin Roz. She’s recovering from a fall (frowny face) but she is a hoot and a half (smiley face). We got caught up on all the family gossip news.

Remember the knitting basket Grandma and I went through a day or two ago? Thousands of knitting needles in every shape and size, as you may recall. Grandma found a pattern for a summer sweater that she wants to make, so on our way to dinner last night we stopped at Michael’s to find yarn. We found a lovely shade of persimmon (go look it up) and then Grandma said, “Now I need knitting needles.”

What???

“What size?” I politely inquire (and by “what size” I meant “are you out of your mind?”)

“10” says Grandma ignoring my intent.

“We found size 10,” I say somewhat patiently (and by “somewhat patiently” I mean “in a flabbergasted manner but still showing proper respect for my mother”).

“They’re too long,” Grandma informs me, still ignoring my intent.

We bought knitting needles.

For the record, I agree with her. The ones we found are much too long to be of use to anyone (and by “anyone” I mean either Grandma or me). Why I am taking them home is a mystery that will not be solved today.

After the Great Yarn Purchase, we went to a restaurant for Turkish food. I had never had Turkish food before. I’m still not 100% sure that I have. Except for the red lentil soup I had with my meal (which was very good although I couldn’t quite figure out the spice they used), the fish (while very good) was not particularly different from other fish I’ve eaten.

Still a lovely dinner with excellent company (and by “excellent company” I mean Grandma, Grandpa, and the girl at the table behind me who talked non-stop about the classes she’s taking in college. She’s studying theater and LOOOVES her current lighting teacher.).

Can’t wait to hear all about your scuba diving adventures.

Love, Mom

P.S. Happy Birthday, Grandma Pat!