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Dear Susannah, why do you insist on calling our main bathroom the “men’s baffroom?” I know daddy spends a lot of time in there, but….?? Dear endless parade of holidays that fall between November and May, I’m pretty much over all of it by Valentines Day. Can we just call it good until Thanksgiving? Dear springtime in Texas, stop trying to lure me into a false sense of security with your perfect, sunny days. I still remember what’s looming on the horizon. Dear Madeline, please never wheeze like you did this past weekend ever again. It’s really scary. Dear husband, remember how every time we go to a restaurant you end up wishing you had ordered what I did? I think your sub-conscience is trying to tell you something, possibly about my superior intellect. Dear 39 doctor, dentist, and miscellaneous appointments, why do you always all have to end up scheduled in one four-day period? Dear ladybug cake, please, please turn out actually resembling a ladybug. Please? Dear everyone that was on the road that day I took the turn under the bridge WAY too fast and looked like an out-of-control maniac, um….sorry?