Dear. . .Anyone Who Cares to Listen

Even though I've been writing letters all week, I still have a thing or two to say. . .

Head over to Kat's to see the other letters heading to the post office today . . . .

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Dear Allstate,

Having this week to myself has given me the chance to catch up on a little paperwork. And I must say that I was truly dismayed to discover that you had not updated our insurance cards - for the cards we carried in our glove compartments all expired at the end of March.

What's that?

My fault?

Don't you know that I would never let something as important as that lapse???

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Dear Auto Mechanic Guy (whose repair skills may or may not be sucky - depending on whether you charge me for the tow back to your shop. . . and actually fix the car this time. . . )

Thank you for informing me that my daughters' Jeep, Roberta, was overdue on her state inspection also. I can't - for the life of me - imagine why my daughters didn't notice!

And, of course - if they had - I would have taken care of the situation right away.

Now get your head back under Roberta's hood . . . the girls will be back with their nail guns tomorrow!

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Dear Division of Motor Vehicles,

Thank you for your timely response to my renewal of White Ice's registration, so I can now proceed to get her inspected.

But - next time - could you send the renewal form out in a neon envelope? If you had, I would never have let something as important as that lapse. . .

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Dear Mr. (or perhaps, Ms) Ziplock,

Thank you for making those ginormous bags where I can stuff the mail when it comes. . . 'cause it looks so messy and disorderly out on the counter. And, what's more, the bag is see-through so I can always see every little item that needs my attention.

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Dear Mr. Clean,

Thank you for staying with me this week. I'm so sorry to lose you as a housemate. Is there nothing I can do to convince you to stay around a little longer? Have you ever really tried getting along with the rest of the family????

I have Ziplock bags. . . . perhaps we could store them inside. . .

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Dear Mr. (or perhaps Ms.) Stouffer,

I just want to warn you that sales of your frozen Macaroni and Cheese will be declining next week. My husband will be returning home and I have to eat like a human.

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Dear Mr. Fish Eye in a Box,

I just want to warn you that sales of your Pinot Grigio will be going up next week. My teenage daughters will be returning to the homestead and I - no doubt - be drinking like a fish.

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And all of the above are affectionately signed,