Tiny Letters, Midsummer

Dear Holiday Weekend,

You were great. Until Jack got strep. Then you were like a burning plane in a death spiral.


Dear three cans of crisp, cold Fresca I consumed on the 4th,

You the real MVP.


Dear Jack,

We do not cram family photos down the disposal and shred them.

Nor do we attack family members.


Dear Costco Rotisserie Chicken,

Thank you for being a thing. I love you.


Dear Week When Jack is Sick,

You are a freaking fire-breathing dragon.


Dear Blog,

I’m struggling to find words. I am loathe to plunk down the whiny, annoyed, frustrated words which are my first response to many things. And so I think and mull and hope to write better words –true words—soon.




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