Do you remember the time I found that dead garter snake in the creek and brought it home? So, about that. Okay. Full confession. I waited patiently for what felt like hours that hot summer day, just so I could coil it carefully (more lifelike) in the middle of the old camp chair of yours. The one with the plastic caning that belled downward from age? Yeah. I waited and plotted and barely hid my chuckles of anticipation for when you came back outside with your sun tea and I hoped, would be momentarily blind from the sun, so you wouldn’t see the snake until you sat on it. You did see it before you sat, but just barely. Remember that? I’m real sorry.
And the time(s) I snuck into the bathroom while you were taking a hot shower and perched precariously on the toilet lid to pour an entire economy sized pitcher overflowing with ice cubes and water, over the top of the shower rod and down onto your poor unsuspecting head and body before I ran like hell? Well…I tried to run like hell but being bent over double from laughing did hinder my athleticism. Right. How could you forget? Back to the point, I’m really sorry about that too. Really, really sorry. Please forgive me.
Mom, please forgive your eldest daughter, I beg you. Because the curse you placed on me worked. Because I have a child just like I used to be and even worse, he’s a boy. A boy who is terrorizing me to the point of jumping at shadows, having to forgo taking showers because our bathroom door doesn’t lock at the moment and he has loud gas, an arsenal of Nerf guns at the ready, and I smell ripe and we all could use a little more sleep…did I mention he’s a boy? I’m sorry! Just make it stop!
Your loving and ever remorseful daughter