Ackery

Avalanche

Dear Spammers of the World,

Flattered by I am by your 2000+ daily emails, and the corresponding assumption that I have both a trusting nature and disposable income, I feel I must tell you the truth: I possess neither. I am cranky and more than a little paranoid, and any free cash around here is going to the Replace The Nasty Carpet Fund, so you're wasting your time. You are also not winning any points by telling me I'm fat. Please go away now.

No love,

E

What's for dinner?

Dearest Boy of My Heart,

We have been together almost ten years now, and I feel that we have reached a point in our relationship where we can really be forthright and honest with each other. We can share things that perhaps we once did not feel like sharing.

Things like, for example, hot water.

It is in this spirit of loving openness that I want to tell you, as forthrightly as I can, that the next time you use up every last drop of hot water on a frigid December morning in Chicago when I have EVENTS with PRESCHOOL MOMMIES to attend, rendering me unable to shave my legs or condition my hair because the water is so cold the conditioner freezes in the bottle, I will serve only fish and sauteed spinach for dinner every night for a month. Honest, I will.

XOXO,

Your Loving Wife

Clarification of the Rules

Dearest Ellie-Belly,

While I understand that your five-minute snooze in the aisles of Linens 'N Things took place after 12:00 pm, it does not qualify as your afternoon nap. An afternoon nap, everyone knows, must last at least an hour and a half.

Therefore, I must request that you cease and desist pulling diapers and toys off your changing table and go to sleep, or I shall sell you to the next gypsy caravan that passes through the subdivision.

With warmest regards,

Mama.