A Letter to MeaPosted: November 7, 2012
It is currently four o’clock in the afternoon, four days after DST time change. I would like to request first and foremost that you seriously consider going to bed on time this evening, and not waking up at 5 AM tomorrow morning. You normally sleep until at least 7:30 on school days, so 5 AM is beyond ridiculous for you. This weekend if you wake up this early, I may have to consider tying you to your bed. On the weekend you normally sleep until at least 8 or 8:30, I will settle for 7. I will even resort to begging if I have to, so please just stay asleep. Please? Pretty please? With sugar on top?
By this time tomorrow, you should be an Auntie again. Your middle sister is currently at the hospital in labor with your soon to be newest nephew. I know you can’t wait to see him, especially since he is going to be “brown, like you.”
You were ever so pleased to wake up this morning to the news that Barack Obama was voted President again. I remember when you first said his name as a little two-year-old girl. We Caucused for Obama that year when you were just really starting to say a few words, and by November of 2008, you could recognize Obama on TV and say his name! Yes, Daddy, Mack and I all raised our hands for Obama. Just like you did at school. Yes, we all know, you voted first on Monday. We have all got it. You were the first one in the family.
Although, you won’t understand this now, your sister Mack is a really funny girl. She had your Nana, Daddy and Momma really laughing over a post she put on Facebook after the election results came out. I’ll share it with you now, so you can read it when you are older and can understand it and have a laugh, just don’t repeat this at school. It may make your teacher frown. Sissy said, “Once you go black, you can never go Mormon.” This has made Momma giggle all day long.
Right now you are at an age when joking about butts, farts, and poop are completely hysterical. You never get tired of telling jokes about your booty. At least right now, I think you are pretty hilarious, too. Just don’t start those machine gun farts when we are somewhere in public, or I might have to temporarily disown you.
I am ever so sorry that you feel so cheated in life because you do not have a “real cell phone, that works.” Where your friends parents may be
stupid, ignorant, ridiculous, and allow your friends to have cell phones at age six, your Momma and Daddy find that it is highly inappropriate. You are only six, you can barely spell. I shudder to think what your text messages would be like. I have a hard enough time deciphering what Mack is saying half of the time and she is twenty. Like your sister, you will be waiting until you are at least in middle school. If you keep pestering me about it, you may be waiting until college. I have kindly decided to keep the house phone until you are old enough to have a cell phone so that you have a way to call your friends to discuss which One Direction boy is hotter, Niall (or as you have been calling him, Niald) or Harry. I know you “love” Niald, but truthfully, Harry is cuter.
You are a character and I love you more than you could ever know.