Dear Water Company,

Believe me, I KNOW that our most recent water bill was ridiculous. I cringed as I opened it, and then cringed more as I paid it. But if you had driven past our house recently, you would have noticed that we’ve been doing some work. We put in a few trees, two flower gardens… Oh, and we re-graded one side of our yard and then planted all new grass there.

All those things require water. Lots of water, in fact, as they are just taking root. And, of course, we chose the year of the drought in which to do this landscaping. Which necessitated a whole lot of sprinkler-running.

I promise, next month will be better.

Sincerely,
The Constant Waterer

***

Dear Fraud Department,

I appreciate that you are always on top of things, monitoring my credit card use for any signs of suspicious activity. You watch for large transactions, strange transactions, and purchases that don’t line up with my usual spending habits.

However.

YES, I am the one who ordered some exercise clothing recently. It was not a fraudulent purchase.

I know this is shocking. Just ask our elliptical machine. It, too, was shocked when I actually worked out this week.

But hey, the last 5 months were rough. I’ve had a broken elbow, and VBS, and vacation, and…um…laziness.

But I’m back now. Back to exercising. And that required a small purchase. So, um, thanks for your phone call and email alerting me to the possibility of fraudulent credit card activity. But it’s okay. It was really me.

Sorely yours,
One Out-of-shape Exerciser

***

Dear Cruel Animal,

I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know what you are. But I do know that I am very upset with you.

See, I don’t have much of a green thumb. I’ve been known to accidentally kill my fair share of plants.

But this year, I had an Evening Primrose that was truly flourishing. It seemed that every morning, the plant had spread further, and the flowers were more abundant and more beautiful than ever.

However, we came home from vacation to find this, the pathetic remains of a once-thriving plant:

Oh, I had clues before we left. I noticed a nibble here and a nibble there. But during the week we were gone, you single-handedly destroyed my favorite plant. The signs of gnawing are irrefutable.

And I do not like you.

If I had the energy — and if I were not worried that the neighbors would think I was insane — I would conduct a stakeout on our front porch in order to catch you in the dead of night, when you come to seek and destroy beautiful flowering plants. But I can’t seem to stay up past 11:00 p.m.

So I will just write you a nasty letter on my blog.

And you better hope I never catch you.

With deep mourning and dislike,
Me

Dear Elliptical Machine,

Hello, friend. It is okay if I call you “friend,” isn’t it? After all, we’ve been hanging out together for about a month now, spending “quality time” together most days of the week. And even though, at the beginning, I could only stand to be near you for ten minutes at a time, I’ve gradually found it easier to spend longer and longer sessions with you. Now when we get together, it’s for nearly half an hour. So yes, I think we could consider ourselves friends.

Anyway, here’s the thing. Spending time with you has been good for my heart. My heartrate no longer soars to perviously unknown heights and ridiculously high numbers as soon as I begin to move, and that’s good. But still, when I’m done, my legs are all jello-y, I can hardly breathe, and I feel like immediately falling upon the couch and taking a nap. So could you take it a little easy on me? Or at least say something encouraging while I’m working out? Things would be a lot easier if you said things like, “Good job,” “Keep it up,” or even better, “Katrina — you totally rock!” while I’m exercising.

So, um, work on that, okay? Thanks.

Your friend,
Katrina the Jello-Legged

***

Dear Trader Joe’s,

You do realize that you threaten to counteract all the hard work I’m doing with my dear friend, the elliptical machine, right? With your aisles of yummy trail mixes, cookies, chocolate covered coffee beans, peanut-butter-filled pretzels, and other such goodies…well, it’s hard to visit you and then consistently uphold good health practices.

And yes, I know the food you offer is, in many cases, healthier than the stuff I would buy at Ye Old Standard Grocery Store. But still. If I eat your offerings in enormous amounts, it’s going to cause a problem.

So: you should hereafter sell more vegetables and fewer yummy snacks. Sound good? Good.

Sincerely,
A Very Tempted Shopper

***

Dear poor, neglected boxes in the garage,

I know. I’ve been ignoring you. You moved here with us, from our old house, last October. And while I dealt with many, many (many) of your fellow boxes — unpacking, arranging, storing, putting away — a few of you were left behind. I didn’t abandon you purposely. It’s just…the holidays came, and things got busy, and well…there you are. Faithfully waiting for me, against a wall of our garage.

But perhaps you’ve noticed that I’m back at it. I’m back to unpacking, finally. My goal is to be done unpacking before we’ve lived here 4 months. And that’s coming up quickly. So take heart! You are on the agenda. You will be neglected no longer!

Affectionately,
A fairly rotten unpacker who should probably never move again

Dear impatient teenage driver,

I’m very glad that you managed to slam on your brakes and avoid hitting me in the Panera parking lot the other day. For future reference, driving at 40 mph in a parking lot is generally not a great approach. You’ll hit far fewer people if you keep your speed appropriate for the environment.

I’m also glad that I didn’t see you crash into any other vehicles. Although, when you chose to roar past me once we were on the main road, and then run a just-turned-red light, I was concerned that an accident was imminent.

I know you’re young and invincible and that you don’t have time for us old fogeys. But for your own good, and that of those around you, please exercise caution while driving.

Sincerely,
A concerned “older” driver

**

Dear expired medicine,

Are you multiplying behind closed doors? Because really, I don’t know where all of you come from. As I’m cleaning things out in preparation for our move, I’m honestly shocked at the amount of expired over-the-counter pharmaceuticals in our home.

Or perhaps instead of multiplying, you all got together and changed your expiration dates when I wasn’t looking. Because it seems you’ve all expired in the last three months. Couldn’t you spread out your expiry dates a bit more?

Warmly,
Someone who’s thankful the Nyquil wasn’t expired

**

Dear books,

I love you. You know that, right? It seems I can never have too many books.

Well, except for right now, maybe.

Because as I pack you all into boxes, preparing to move you to our new home, I’m struck by the sheer number of you. And also, the sheer weight of you.

It is not going to be easy to move the many, many, many pounds of books we own to a new location. My back will surely complain.

So please don’t take offense, but I’ll probably never move you again. You’ll either live out your years in our new house, or get donated, sold, shared, or otherwise disposed of. Because I never want to pack, move, and unpack this many boxes of books again.

Love,
Your mostly-devoted owner

**

Dear strangers at the grocery store,

Look. I’m tired, okay?

And no, your eyes were not deceiving you.

It’s true that the other day, as I approached the automatic exit door — yes, the one that automatically opens for all of us shoppers — I lifted my car key/remote-door-unlocker-thingy, pointed it at the automatic grocery store door, and clicked the Unlock Button repeatedly.

Like I said, I’m tired. And I have a lot on my mind.

But the door opened after I did that, didn’t it? I rest my case.

Exhaustedly yours,
The crazy woman at the grocery store

Dear Load of Laundry,

I’m sorry. I left you in the dryer way too long and you have become hopelessly wrinkled. Sadly, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. Far from it.

I often completely forget about you and your relatives as you sit patiently in the dryer — clean, dry, and warm — awaiting the moment when I will rescue you, fold you, and put you away. Instead, I’m reading or surfing the Internet or sipping coffee or making dinner. Not thinking about laundry. And there you sit.

You know what’s even worse? I’m not going to iron you. Those parts of you that are salvageable, I’ll hang up and hope for the best. The rest of you might find yourselves back in the dryer for a quick refresher. And I’ll try not to forget you this time.

Regretfully,
A deficient laundress

***

Dear Paper,

Where do you come from? I don’t mean in some abstract “how-is-paper-made-from-trees” kind of way. I mean in the very concrete “where in the world does all this paper in my house come from” kind of way.

Oh, I know, I have two kids. One of them brings home piles of paper from school. The other is eternally drawing, coloring, writing, cutting, pasting and otherwise using paper and littering it about the house.

But still. Paper. Try to contain yourself. How about you just stay on the coffee table and not encroach on any other flat surface in my home? Deal?

Warmly,
A woman who is not afraid to use her shredder

***

Dear Deer,

As a general rule, I have nothing against you and your kin. I love to watch you grazing in the fields. Your fawns are always adorable. And I haven’t caught you eating the plants in my garden (yet).

But next time you see me driving down the road, do me a favor. Please stay in the woods. Kindly do not run into my car and then gallop off into the darkness like you did Monday night. My checkbook and my insurance adjuster just don’t appreciate that kind of behavior.

I hope you’re as okay as you seemed to be, but we’ll get along much better if you stay off the road when I am on the road.

Thanks,
Reluctant deductible-payer

Dear Baby Bunny Rabbits,

We think you’re very cute. We love how you show up every evening to munch on the clover in our back yard. Admittedly, we get a kick out of your twitchy noses and twilight frolicking.

And to be honest, we’re a bit shocked at how tame you are. I mean, two rambunctious boys playing on the swingset mere feet away from you doesn’t make you consider retreating to the safety of your burrows? You tolerate noise, running, patio conversations. As long as we stay about 15 feet away, it’s all good, right?

Well, that’s fine. Like I said, we enjoy your presence. But just be careful. Our neighborhood does contain dogs and cats, you know. And also hawks. And since you probably don’t have access to the National Geographic channel, let me be the one to inform you: all three of those creatures are bigger threats to your personal well-being than our two kids.

So you know, keep being cute, but watch your back.

Warmly,
Your clover providers

***

Dear Skinny Cow Dark Chocolate Dreamy Clusters,

I thought you were a good idea. Gobs of chocolate and caramel and crunchiness for a mere 120 calories? I could fit that into my daily routine.

The problem is, you’re too good. I find myself trying to find ways to eat more than one cute little serving size in any given day. And if we’re not careful, I could be tempted to consume an entire box of you in one day.

Which would not be a good idea.

So if I pass by you in the grocery store next time I’m there, and seem to ignore you, please know that it’s not really your fault. I just like you too much.

Sweetly,
A chocoholic

***

Dear Chin,

Seriously. Enough with the chin hairs. I’m not even 40 yet, so I’d appreciate if you would just suppress your follicular exuberance for a while, m’kay? The plucking is getting really, really old.

So…knock it off. Got it?

Irritatedly,
Me

P.S. I mean it.

***

Dear precious 5-year-old of mine,

Remember yesterday when you threatened to run away if things didn’t improve around here? That is, if we didn’t stop making your life so difficult by instituting and then enforcing standards and guidelines? I hope you’ve reconsidered your travel plans.

Yes, we’re going to keep enforcing the rules around here. But we’ll love you the whole time. And we promise to try to be reasonable in our expectations.

So please, consider staying here where there’s a comfortable bed, plenty of food, books, toys, and most of all….lots of love.  We’d really miss you if you ran away…even if your planned destination — as you announced yesterday — is just the backyard.

Love always,
Mom