Letters to Christmas and more

Dear Whistler,

Thanks for the good times. Next time would you mind snowing before the last day of our trip? Say, like day one or two? Hey, and next time could you just leave the rain in Seattle?

Smooches,
Soggy in Seattle

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Dear US Customs,

My husband and I are not terrorists. I know we seem a little sketchy what with the two small children and family truck full of skis. Sure I can see how you may confuse us with terrorists since having a time share in a foreign country is almost the same as blowing people up. I see how you could make that mistake. I know, our birth certificates look identical. We were born in the same county six weeks apart and apparently our parents all excelled in record keeping because we both have the originals.

Also, it should really be a crime to run out of gas in the line at the border. At first I felt sorry for the guy but then rage took over. Rage somehow seems to sneak in when it's lunch time and I am stuck in border traffic which is almost as bad violently vomiting for hours but with less heaves.

So, yeah, Mr. Border Patrol we are in no way terrorists but thanks for checking.

Hugs,
Angry Mama Who Waited 3.5 Hours at the Border

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Dear Pediatric Cardiologist,

Could you freaking call me back? Dude, I've called 3 times. I get the feeling you just aren't that into me? Do I smell? I mean I got your number from someone legit. And, yes, I do realize that you probably have hundreds of worried parents but really your message says you will call in 24 hours and Lady I hate people who lie. And, you are totally lying on your sweet message that also states you are busy. I get it. I do. But, really, I just want someone to return my call. So, Lady, please call. I am feeling like that girl who doesn't realize that the hot boy is just not into me and, Lady, that is a lonely place.

Hugs,
The Woman Trying to Stay Calm

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Dear Christmas,

What the heck man? Could you just slow down a second? I haven't even an idea where the freaking decorations are and you just can't seem to stop barreling towards me. Christmas Spirit, where art thou? Spirit, are you hiding under the bed? Spirit, please find your way to me now. I can't have any of this not showing up until the 23rd like last year. THAT, almost ruined Christmas. Spirit you are on notice. You have 48 hours to find your way to my heart!

Kisses,
Mrs. No Spirit

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Dear Aspen,

Please don't hate me. I know the dentist thing was awful. The Dentist swears the Valium will make you forget but I know it won't. So please, do not hate me. On a side note, while you were wailing in the chair the Dentist told you he was glad you were taking your oral health seriously. And, I figured a comment like that had to go in the record book somewhere.

Love,
Your Mama

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Dear Food Suppliers,

Gas prices went down months ago and still you insist on those inflated prices. It should not cost me $82 for supplies to make cookies. Grant it, I plan to make half a gazillion cookies but still. Still. The only reason I didn't just tell the checker to forget it was because the amount of time I plan to have these cookies consume should make the price per hour of cookie making madness approximately $.47. So, really, those $82 cookies are almost free. ALMOST. But, only in my mind. My pocket book hates you. Actually, my husband's pocket book hates you because his pocket book is in charge of food and mine is in charge of fun. Although, maybe we should have split that bill? Regardless, take note, gas is almost free so lower your freaking prices.

Thank you,
Crazy Baker