I cannot believe that I am (I have become) someone who has planned a going home outfit for New Baby. Should everything work according to plan, he should be coming home about three months from now. I don’t even think that a going home outfit is that important. I mean, he will have no awareness… Continue reading Going Home Outfit
Author: sherlonya
In an open letter to new baby,
“Thanks for letting me sleep all night without having to get up to visit the bathroom. What a birthday treat! That very strong wallop you delivered as soon as I did wake up made it feel extra thoughtful.”
In an open letter to my 5 fibroids,
“Hey, thanks to you we got a sneak peek at the baby. Also, thanks for staying the same size. In fact, y’all were down there and I was none the wiser. Keep it up and you’re welcome to stay.”
In an open letter to the woman I’ve named Grandma Maggie who appeared to be trying to redeem a stack of expired coupons,
“Whew! That took awhile. You gave me the chance to have a whole eyeball conversation with the other black lady in line. For that, I thank you.”
In an open letter to the man who stared at my chest as if it were a Magic Eye poster,
“Sir, you were pushing what appeared to be a very heavy cart. You put everyone’s toes in jeopardy. Be better.”
In an open letter to her son’s high school principal,
“The correct verb tense for the facilitation of bus service in the district should have been ‘run’ not ‘ran.’ You might think about running your long-winded phone bulletins by one of the English teachers.”
In an open letter to this pregnancy,
“I never knew that despite my love for food and cooking, I only ever want to eat a certain amount of times per day. I am tired of snacks. Now excuse me while I eat this apple and granola bar.”
In an open letter to the woman with a dog blocking access to the set of stairs that leads to the coffee shop,
“Are you intentionally positioned for maximum sprawl? The purse, the stretching out, you look like you’ve mistaken this area for the beach. Oh, I stand corrected as you bring your unleashed dog into the coffee shop….”
In an open letter to the man who tried to beat me into the tire center,
“We both know I was here first. Also, I knew you were going to do that; I could sense it.”
In an open letter to the women’s restroom in the Boston Logan airport,
“Well, okay. All of the human smells. One bathroom. With soothing music in the bathroom. Okay.”