a few letters I've been meaning to write:
Thank you for helping me make my house smell lovely without the fear of "burning-my-house-down-because-I-have-an-open-flame" syndrome that was gifted to me by my mother. Thanks mom. I'll never light a candle again.
Thanks for helping me celebrate the fall with your lovely scents. Right now I have "Grove and Clove" melting in my little pot thing. It smells so good and makes me forget that it is 87 degrees outside.
Just wanted to say thanks all the way from South Texas.
Thank you for learning how to go pee-pee and poopy in the potty. It really is great not having to change your diaper. However, it's not very fun when I find the occasional poopy in your princess panties. Really, it stinks. Literally and figuratively.
So, let's do what we know how to do-do (pun intended, again), shall we?
That'd be great. Thanks in advance.
Dear Friends and Neighbors,
I like you, I really do. Sorry that you've known me for __+ years and I still haven't formally invited you into my home. Honestly, it doesn't occur to me that often. I'm pretty darn content here on my own, so I forget. But, I typically DO have a lot of fun when we hang out.
Just make sure you tell me before you come so you won't think I'm a total slob. And that way I can put away the billion toys/crayons/stuffed animals/blocks/my paperwork and pretend that I'm always this tidy.
Seriously, tell me before you come.
So, don't be mad. Don't think we're jerks. Don't think we don't like you, because we do.
All my love. Your favorite friend and neighbor,