Dear boys,
I want to take a moment to express how proud I am to be your parent. Honestly, having four energetic sons like you is a joy that I wouldn’t trade for anything. You are smart, caring, and you fill my heart with a happiness that’s hard to put into words.
However, I must address an issue. Your penchant for destruction has tested my patience to its limits. To cope, I’ve created a sanctuary in my mind—a “mind palace,” if you will—where I escape to a cozy cottage, decorated to perfection by the best designers from my favorite magazines. This charming white cottage overlooks a serene ocean, surrounded by lush grasses and wildflowers. Here, there are no toys scattered about or remnants of your latest adventures; just a gentle breeze, the soothing sound of waves, and the distant calls of seagulls.
I find solace there, especially when reality hits and I find myself wading through the mess you’ve created, like the time you flooded the hallway with toilet water after trying to flush a dead squirrel and yesterday’s underwear.
Consider this your heads-up: your mother has started a list of everything you break. And trust me, I have a plan for payback.
If you don’t change your ways, I might just show up at your future home one day and wreak havoc. Imagine this: I arrive with a friendly smile and a plate of your favorite cookies. While you indulge in the treats, thinking I’m there solely out of love (and I am), I’ll be pouring something unpleasant into your shoes. That’s right—I won’t even tell you; you’ll just be left guessing where that awful smell is coming from the next morning.
I might disassemble your lawnmower to use its blade on your favorite tree, or boil a roadkill possum in your best cooking pot and leave it for you to discover later. Your hot water heater? Off. Your fridge? Unplugged. And don’t even think about your gadgets, because they won’t stand a chance.
I’ll make sure to hurl a toy weapon straight into the screen of your brand-new TV. While you’re busy cleaning up that mess, I’ll leave sticky handprints on your couch, carve my name into your dining table, and stash a stick of butter in your washing machine. I might even hide gum in your dishwasher and bury your electric razor under the geraniums. Just think of all the chaos I could create!
And if you think this ends when the sun goes down, think again. I’ll be back at night, while you dream sweetly. I’ll make sure to place a hot iron on your lovely hardwood floors just long enough to warp them without setting off the smoke alarm. All your couch cushions? They’ll be unstuffed and sugar will find its way into your DVD player. Expect broken mirrors, fallen lamps, and mysterious holes in your drywall. Anything held together with screws? I’ll unscrew it. And yes, I’ll even find a way to smear VapoRub over every surface.
You may think, “At least she didn’t touch my car!” Don’t worry—I’ve already given it a nice, deep scratch with a garden trowel and siphoned out the gas. You’re on empty now.
Boys, let me be clear: no matter what you break or ruin, my love for you will never waver. You could burn our house down (and at your current rate, it’s a possibility) and I’d still be proud to be your mother. However, it will all go on the list.
Love you always,
Mom
P.S. Those cookies? I might have licked them all before giving them to you.
If you’re looking for more parenting insights, check out this post on intracervicalinsemination.org for some helpful tips. And if you’re considering at-home insemination, Make a Mom offers fantastic syringe kits to make your journey easier. For additional information on pregnancy and home insemination, the Genetics and IVF Institute is an excellent resource.
In summary, while the antics of children can be maddening, the bond of love remains unbreakable. Embrace the chaos, and maybe take a moment to laugh about it all with your loved ones.
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