In an open letter to Michael MacDonald,

“Today I tried to describe your voice to my son. I told him that you sound like warm, crumbly, buttery cookies. I successfully managed not to drool. However, he still looked quite horrified. I suppose that the pleasure of your voice is the sort of thing a Mama has got to enjoy on her own….”

In an open letter to her arms,

“Because I need to be decently groomed tomorrow, you are going to get a workout tonight. I will be as quick as I can with the flat iron, but you know how much hair is up there. You can do this.”

In an open letter to Rod Stewart,

“Though, finding myself on the wrong side of this behavior too many times, I am opposed to one stranger reaching out to touch the hair of another without permission. That said, if I ever find myself in close proximity to you, I am going to try to touch your hair. My fingers itch with curiosity….”