Dear Squeak -I love you. I really do. You are my little warrior woman and your "I don't give a stuff what the universe thinks of me" attitude is commendable and makes me puff up with pride. But if you ever fill your rubber boots with wet sand again, bring them home in that condition only for me to wonder "what the f*ck is that smell?!" while stink lines start wafting from my laundry which forces me to use my uber superhuman nostrils of strength to hunt that odor down and then I nearly gag on it, I may disown you and leave you at the beach next time.
Dear complacent gland situated in a blah like fashion in my brain -Wake up! No don't roll over and scratch yourself before dozing back off to sleep. Listen up! You should have dealt with that immediately when you got home instead of leaving it in the laundry for a week. Next time, don't just walk past it and say "meh" as you close the door on it. If you do, I will have to withhold chocolate from you and you would like that, would you?
Dear chocolate loving hemisphere-You know I don't mean that, right? I still loves you heaps. We're cool, right? Let's hug it out with a Time Out bar.
And here is a random donkey letter box.