I am allergic to lavender. It gives me migraines and makes me want to vomit. You were the one that liked it, not me. They way that long red nails creep you out is what the smell of lavender does to me, only with vomit. (For the readers- I may be the first person in history to have become nauseous in sight of the legendary lavender fields of Provence. Thank god that french pharmacists understand the word “migraine”)

The books- one I already own and the other is written by a hack. But Ruth said she’d see if she could sell them since what we really need is grocery money.

We are fiercely agnostic. And I mean fierce. Every time you send the Kid some ridiculous religious piece of jewelry I get the desire to burn down St. James. But then we just make fun of how hideously ugly the religious tokens you send are and the problems with crazy religious freaks and their belief in the magic sky fairy who try to push their beliefs onto rational people.

And the idea you have of who the Kid is and what he likes is off. Stop trying to push your fantasy onto him. He’s his own person, more so because I don’t let people like you push him into being what you need him to be. That’s why you don’t get to come withing a thousand yards of him. You’re a fucking grown up, leave the Kid alone.

Presents, when obviously chosen because you 1) don’t know shit about us and 2) think you know shit because you’ve been creepily stalking my blog are creepy! Way to make someone feel uncomfortable about having to accept a gift they don’t want and don’t like. And did I mention creepy.

And creepy. Has anyone ever told you that you have serious boundary issues? Cause you do. Stop trying to cross mine. You do not get to be part of our lives. Not now, not ever. We’ve made peace with that. You need to make peace with that too. Hold a mock funeral for us if you like and if it will make you feel some closure. You have one child now, I suggest you focus on him.

PS- the spoon rest, in all it’s hideous tackiness, was crushed “accidentally” several times by a hammer on the back deck last night. So was the cd. It’s tragic really.

(for the regular readers, this post goes out to someone else, obvs.)