An Open Letter to my Husband in Anticipation of Mother’s Day

Dear Mr. G.,

I don’t want much for Mother’s Day. I absolutely positively do not under any circumstances want to find myself in a restaurant with proper linens.

Maybe instead of taking them to a tennis lesson the four of us could just hit some balls? Maybe we’ll just sleep in a little?

I’d really like a compost tumbler. I don’t really want to have to dig through a compost bin and I’ve always wanted a tumbler. There are a few options for them and I’m not convinced that a $300 tumbler is two and a half times better than a $130 tumbler. I’m pretty sure the big box stores have them in stock. I like the ones that look like an old oil barrel, in fact in a perfect world we’d make our own from an oil barrel, but I guess we both know that our lives aren’t perfect. Damn near, but alas not perfect.

Can you also help me get the kids all situated for school on Saturday? I’m so pissed about the amount of work they have that I’m afraid I’m too grumpy with our general academic outlook to be a good mom. It’s only a few more weeks, and I’m trying to hold it together, but I’m not much of an actress.

So yeah, the compost tumbler would be amazing. I know it’ll be expensive and I could totally lie to you and say there’s some sort of education wrapped up in it somewhere, but we’re both pretty sure that’s just not true and that I just want it for myself.

I plan on being incredibly selfish Sunday (more than usual). I finally have a plan. Go me!

Jessica

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