Dear Citizen…

So, we’re in the middle of recital  rehearsal again, and if you don’t hear from me when you usually do, you know what’s happening…

I’m spending 2-3 nights a week supervising other people’s children.

Which is generally exhausting.

To wit, I’ve got a couple of Dear Citizen letters to start my night of writing off right!

*  *  *

Dear Guest Dog–a.ka. Gibby–

While I appreciate that you don’t really like my dogs, in the future, when we’re walking, it would probably be a good idea not to slip your leash and run off while I”m picking up Johnnie’s crap. If you ran into the road, your owner would be devastated, and I’d feel like crap, for one. For another, watching you round a corner and into a walking group of three pit bull mixes (one of them was pit bull/Clydesdale, I remain convinced) almost gave me a heart attack.

From laughter.

You almost crapped right then and there, didn’t you you little shit.

Yeah, that’s right, trotting off away from your designated human is a bad fucking idea, right? Don’t do it again.



*  *  *

Dear New Dentist–

First of all, I had a terrible crush on your father my old dentist and he was too old for me, and here you are, fifteen years younger than I am and I’m feeling the nasty laughing hand of an evil fate because you are cute as a boy band bug’s ear.

Second of all, this weird infatuation isn’t going to save our relationship if you keep inviting me back just to work on my teeth again.

Also, please laugh at my jokes even if I’m old. If you’re jabbing my gums with lidocaine and I’m being funny, I think that calls for a smile, at least.

You’re still embarrassingly cute but safe from any pervy advances–


*  *  *

Dear other people’s children–

I’m sure you are the apple of your parents’ eyes and if you were my child I’d bore the crap out of the world telling them about your exploits, just ask the readers of my blog. But it’s been a long day, and you are not my children, and if you don’t stop scattering crayons on the lawn I’m going to look up a way to curse your shoelaces so that you may never untie them at will.

I think your parents would be fine with this, but I’m pretty sure you would not.

Think carefully before you throw that next crayon, shall we?

I mean it!


And now I’m off to write!

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