Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Dear Miss Priss

I understand you're still getting used to the new house we moved into. You weren't here for the first few weeks when I was alone and getting used it, so I can relate to the fact that being in a new place is a little different. But you have got to learn that those noises outside are made by TREES, those things we didn't have around our old house. Any time a pine needle grazes your window, it doesn't mean a bad guy is out there trying to break in. Oh, and while we're on the topic of bad guys, every time you see a white van, that doesn't mean a bad guy is in it waiting to steal cute little blue eyed girls. Sometimes they are just white vans, or cleaning services, or windshield repair guys. There is also no need for you to get out of your bed 5 trillion times during the night to tell me you are scared or have to potty. It scares mommy to death when her door is flown open and you yell "MOM" at the top of your lungs. Enough to where the first words out of my mouth are probably something a sailor shouldn't hear, much less your innocent six year old ears. On top of that, it doesn't help mommy's coworkers when she's a raving bitch due to lack of sleep the next day.

Your paranoia is waayy premature for your age. You stress about things I would never consider a six year old thinks about. You shouldn't start worrying about everything until you have rent and bills to pay and another mouth to feed. On that note, please stop telling everyone that we had to go to the grocery store because mommy had NOTHING for you to eat in the house. That was because I'll be damned if I'm going to cook a four course meal for only myself, and with a broken arm to boot. So, yeah, there were more beers than edible items in my refrigerator when you got back from your traveling summer, but I have rectified that situation so could you puhLEEZ stop telling strangers that mommy likes whiskey? Mmmkay, thanks.

I still love you more than you'll ever know, and when you come and cuddle with me on the couch, it makes my week. And when I told you BF wouldn't be around anymore, and you told me I should go on the internet and find a boyfriend on match.com because I'm beautiful, it made me smile for the first time in a while when his name was mentioned in a sentence. Ahhh to be so sweet and innocent again.

So, baby girl, let's work on these issues of being unneccesarily worrisome and scared (I think it's a ruse for you to try to sleep in my bed, but whatever), and it will be smooth sailing at the bachelorette pad from now on.

Love you more than the moon and sun,
Mommy

4 comments:

Sassy Pants said...

How can you get mad at that cute little face and those bouncing curls? hehe

Amber D. said...

The same way you can get mad at your beautiful Aryan child when he poops in the yard.

Courtney said...

Totally forgot what I was going to say when I read your comment Amber. Too fucking funny.

calicobebop said...

She's so grown up! I think that her telling you that you are beautiful and should go to match.com is adorable. What a sweetheart to look after her mommy!