Tuesday, May 24, 2016

a letter from your mommy

My dear child,

Just a few lines to let you know I’m still alive. I’m writing this letter slowly as I remember you can’t read fast. You won’t know the house when you come home. We’ve moved.

Your father has a lovely new job with 300 men under him. He cuts the grass at the cemetery.

There’s a washing machine in our new house but it isn’t working too well. I put fourteen shirts into it, pulled the chain, and I haven’t seen the shirts since.

Your sister Jenny had a baby last week. I haven’t found out if it’s a boy or a girl yet so I don’t know if you’re an uncle or auntie.

I went to the doctor two days ago and your father came with me. The doctor put a tube in my mouth and told me not to open it for ten minutes, then your father offered to buy it from him.

We had a letter from the undertaker. He said if we don’t pay the final installment on your granny, up she comes.

Your loving Mom.

P.S. I was going to send you some money, but I already sealed the envelope.