Posts Tagged ‘letter’
(My best friend Bree and her step-mom remodeled their downstairs bathroom about a week before New Year’s. It looks really nice and smells even nicer. So I was forced to write her an appreciation letter.)
Written on December 31st, 2009 during the trip down to Tri-Cities…
Earlier today, some of my good friends and I were watching TV and chowing down on a bag of yer guyses amazing Mauna Loa Kisses (the ones with the macadamia nuts). I seriously love these things. Like, you have no idea. If Jesus had to suddenly morph into chocolate form, he’d be one of these, hands down. You know how when you see something sour and yer brain automatically starts making extra saliva to compensate for that sour, even before putting it in yer mouth? That’s what mine does, except for the “sour” part is replaced by an overwhelming “omg, there’s that Jesus chocolate again!” part.
Anyways, we got about halfway down the bag and I noticed I was coming across more and more ‘nutless kisses’. Once I realized what was happening, I began to slowly die a little on the inside. Those nuts are like the ying to my yang, man. The headphones to the Ipod, water to the vitamins. Take them out of the mix and it’s like trying to draw sky without the blue crayon.
I ended up finding eleven out of the thirty kisses that we ate to be minus their nuts. I secretly fought back tears of disappointment looking at the empty blue wrappers littering the table. “Are you crying?” My friend asked me this in a wave of confusion as I stood up quickly. I managed to answer her in brief stutters and half sentences followed by a muffled, “I’ll be right back.” I immediately made a mad dash for the bathroom and haven’t come out since. I’m currently huddled in the bathtub, writing this as you read it, shaken and still in shock from my current candy condition. I ask you this now, in regards to future Mauna Loa lovers and dedicated Hershey’s fans like myself. Please don’t skimp out on the macadamians this year. They complete me.
Happy Holidays To You And Yers,
Dear Unborn Child Of Mine,
The economy sucks. But I’m pretty sure when yer 18, it’ll fade into happy money again. Yer dad’s currently the best in the biz according to all the locals. Yu’ll like it here. We got plenty of other cities to move to though, just in case you don’t. Food is abundant, which is excellent for you, cuz from all the kicks I’m feelin’ right now, yer gonna be one hungry baby boy. Hey, at least yer gonna be tall. And I’ll teach you how to play the piano like a madman. I gotta learn first of course, but hey, we’ll get there. Yer gonna be a winter kid. I can feel it. Snowboarding, tubing, and skiing have yer name written all over em’. Stars collided to make you my dear. And they were beautiful.