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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1681915-Dear-Daughter
Rated: 18+ · Letter/Memo · Family · #1681915
A mother's sarcastic letter to her adult daughter
Dear Daughter,



                 Your stepmother called last night to tell me that you had sliced at your wrist after fighting with Nate.  Thank goodness she called!  I was almost believing that “No news is good news”.  It just doesn't feel normal without all the drama and crisis we used to have when you were around.  I can’t tell you how smooth and routine everything’s been here. In a way though, I’m a little disappointed.  Didn’t I teach you to put 100% into everything you set out to do?  I always knew you weren’t listening. Obviously, you were not completely committed to suicide. Whew!

         I also think you should cut Nate some slack. After all, he’s only been out of jail for three weeks. It’s a huge adjustment for anyone. And there are things you can do to ease his transition. Take down the shower curtain and temporarily remove the bathroom door.  He’s bound to feel uncomfortable with all the privacy---after showering and using the toilet in full view of the guards and other inmates for six months. It is also probably confusing to see people wearing so many different colors when you’re accustomed only to orange. It would probably help a whole lot if you would adjust your wardrobe choices in that direction. I’m certain the radical dietary change has been really hard on his system too.  (Diet is so very important for all of us, you know.)  Serve him two slices of white bread with grey, congealed mystery meat and a moon pie for the next two or three weeks.  And always, always provide him with one plastic spork.  It could take several months before he’s able to transition back to “real” silverware. Be patient.

         Thank God you quit your job! Well, not officially quit, but just stopped showing up. I don’t know how you were able to endure an entire two months of such deplorable and unfair working conditions.  I’m sure they eventually figured it out when you wouldn’t even take their calls. What a blessing your sister was in the neighborhood to pick up your last check! I wouldn’t have wanted you to face your asshole boss one single more time! There is only so much one person can stand.

         I hear Nate’s not working either. I expected him to return to his career in retail marketing as soon as he was released this time. I guess the bad economy has also affected the market for illegal drugs. Things are tough all over. In any case, I’m proud that you were able to learn from observing the negative effects of my gainful employment---and at such a young age, too!  I guess I was brainwashed into believing that I had some kind of responsibility for providing for myself and my family. I can’t tell you how much fun I sacrificed over the years, with nothing more to show for it than a paycheck. I’m really happy that you benefited from my mistake. With no commitments, you and Nate are on the road to complete happiness and limitless fun. Live large baby, with my blessings.

         How awesome it must have been to spend three weeks vacationing at that motel at the beach! One man’s flophouse is another man’s Hilton, I always say. It’s location, location, location. With the bonus of maid service to save you from the drudgery of cleaning up after yourself. I’m sure you both really enjoyed being in the same motel as so many of your friends.

          But there’s nothing like being with family, is there? You did a really caring thing by moving back to your dad’s. His tiny two bedroom apartment enhances the invaluable opportunity for togetherness. I can just picture the seven of you camped out all over the living room floor, with all your earthy belongings in trash bags on the sofa. Good times. Your father is one lucky man!  I’m positive he’ll treasure the memory for the rest of his life. Very few adult children move back home with their 32 year-old boyfriends and kid. Most of them live on their own and are too selfish to share their lives so generously.

         I’m also relieved to hear that you are stealing money from them too. I was feeling kind of singled out for awhile. Now that you’re gone, I’ve had the same, boring credit card for a whole year.  There’s no element of surprise each month when our bank statement arrives. It’s just boring, boring, boring. I miss visiting the bank tellers every month to change my PIN number; I rarely have to go inside the bank now at all. Your stepmother said that she’s getting to cancel their accounts the same way we had to.  There’s nothing like the feeling of receiving that envelope with a hard spot---the anticipation of seeing what the new card looks like for the first time!  I’m more than a little jealous.

         I’m also really glad to hear that you’ve returned to smoking. Who would have guessed that first-hand smoke would eliminate the effects of the second-hand kind ? I remember how you used to choke and gag and cough whenever I’d light the rare cigarette in the privacy of my room. Believe me, I haven’t had any other thing to worry about besides the state of your health. Your three brothers and sisters here are just not as special as you. What a tremendous relief that you’re well!

         In closing, I just what to tell you that I am so very proud of the job you’re doing raising your son. Your frequent moves give him such a great opportunity to experience the world. Your lifestyle provides such drama and excitement. The whole concept of stability and structure is, let’s face it, pretty boring. When kids get raised like that, they usually turn out to be just ordinary, functioning members of society. Blah Blah Blah. Any truly good mother wants her child to stand out as an individual. I’m glad you are smart enough to learn from all the mistakes I made raising you.

Love,

Mom



P.S. The cops have stopped by twice to serve that warrant on you. From when you got caught shoplifting?  I told them you’d moved out of state, but I’m not sure they believed me. But who cares? It’s nice to have a police presence in the neighborhood now and then. In fact, it’s the only two times I’ve seen cops anywhere around.

         

Word Count: 1100          

Originally created 6/13/10          
© Copyright 2010 pitbull (pitbull1779 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1681915-Dear-Daughter