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Dearest Tuesday, we must stop meeting like this – you all expectant, and me all unprepared. Dear Madeline, please stop trying to roll the 50 lb watermelon off the counter and into your tiny T-Rex-sized arms. Dear 900-calorie diet, just to clear the air, I’m not a fan. Dear Susannah, no, “tch” does not make a “z” sound. Where on earth are you coming up with these things? Probably from Madeline, who pronounces teeth as “tee-f-t” no matter how many times we go over the correct pronunciation. Dear August, you have been exceptionally kind to us this year. It almost makes me want to take back all the mean things I’ve said about you in the past. Dear husband, I’m sorry that I spent all your monies on new shoes, but I do love them if that’s any consolation. Dear Five Guys Burgers, how on EARTH are your burgers almost 900 calories each? That. Is. Ridiculous. (But they are good.) Dear Harbor Freight, I expected to hate you, but guess what? I bought almost as much stuff as Jerm did. Just further proof that a girl can find something to buy just about anywhere.