Random Letters... Random Photos...

Dear Sunshine... WTH (that means, "What the Heck", ya'll). Where have you been? I'm not gonna lie, with tardiness like that, you're going to be forced to stay later. Plan on it. I'm serious - I'll see you in mid-November. Right?

Dear Kate Middleton... I'm probably always going to call you Kate because it is far friendlier and much more quaint than, "Duchess Katherine". Sorry for you that you had to revert to your formal name. It just doesn't match your cute fingernails or your hip jeans or your hot sista, Pippa. Which is probably the coolest nick-name ever.

Kael discovered that diapers can be removed by one's own self during his nap the other day.

Kaelster is now permanently clad in a onesie.

Dear Kaelster... Let's all thank Heaven that Grandma G. delivered a pint-sized picnic table to you and Dax for your birthdays. Why? Because you have a juicing problem. You love apples and oranges but you leave piles of pulp after you have thoroughly squeezed them. Now, Coop and/or the birds can clean up after you.... not mama! Hallelujah!

Dear Computer... Sometimes I am an evil woman and I sneak down to your lovely glow immediately after putting my babes down for nap time and I shirk other responsibilities like cleaning the fiasco that is my post-lunch kitchen. Why you gotta be so tempting? There should be a timed lock on you that only allows me access after kitchen duty.

Dear Thanksgiving Point... Thanks a bazillion for rubbing my lack of tulips in my face. The gopher incident hurt initially, but now it stings thanks to the salt you rubbed in my open wound. I don't know if I'm proud to be an annual pass holder or not. You're kind of "the mean girl" right now.

Dear Dax... We will all be sweating a wee bit in the playroom this summer. You are such a little monkey climbing on every piece of furniture, that we must keep the window firmly shut or I fear you and your Evel-Knievel ways will push out the screen and go for a fly. For the record, this is not an option.

Dear Laundromat... I am terrified of you and I can't explain this delirious, unfounded fear. I took all my rugs at one time in broad daylight to visit your premise and I about had a heart-attack constantly looking over my shoulder for a serial killer to arrive and finish me off. Longest hour and a half of my life. Why are you so creepy? I think I will swear off rugs forever.

Dear St. George... Guess who is gonna be stompin' your territory more often? Gram & Gramps A. bought a nice abode in your sunny village and we are going to be utilizing their pool and amenities while it snows up here in the tundra each winter. ShaZam... livin' the good life. Watch out for my little rambunctious group.

Dear RyGar... Do you even know how much we love having you around? Now that busy season is nearly wrapped up I kind of reel over in shock and disbelief when you are home prior to midnight and your suitcase remains unpacked in the closet. And the babies? They are shameless with their open adoration of "Dada"... they think you are rad and it would be embarrassing if it wasn't so dang cute.

I was gone for five minutes. Five minutes people.

And there is a grand total of six drawers in the entire house that aren't baby locked. What in the world?

Dear Neighboring Elementary School... I love you and your squealing sounds of recess. Thanks to raucous games of kick-ball and kissing tag my kiddos can sleep through nearly anything. I only hope they don't fall out of the habit during what promises to be a seemingly silent summer break.

Dear Office... that's right, this letter is addressed to a TV show... don't judge. I am still on the fence about you. I don't know if I can really be a dedicated fan without Steve Carell. I'll try, I really will, for Pam and Jim and Dwight's sakes and because we have a long and historical love-affair; but no promises.

Dear Neighbors... Yes, that was a little smorgasbord of In n' Out Fries, Cheetos and dirt- encrusted apples that my kids were devouring today while I mowed the lawn. It isn't the norm, which is why it works so well... and my little men will sit in the yard on their blanket and munch and munch and watch and munch. Tonight we'll resume green beans, pears and ham - don't despair.

Dear Ash B... How do you like being the "Founding Father" of the now-famous and often duplicated "Little Letters"? I bet you feel like you're owed a small royalty every time someone does a blog post in this format, eh? OK, I feel a little guilty now, but you really can't deny your genius here. I will buy you a slush the next time I'm in town - Scout's Honor. :)