I wrote last night, as I usually do, but what you see before you is a re-post. Why? Because what I wrote last night can be found over at La Tejana, where I am a guest writer today! Shelly is an amusing, endearing woman I am proud to call a friend.
Be sure to stop by her place!
I don’t know about you, but sometimes it seems that all I get in the mail is bills, requests for donations, advertisements, perhaps the odd thank-you card.
Dear Aunt Pearl,
Thank you so much for the $50 for graduation. I'm going to save it to fill my gas tank.
Love,
Grateful Nephew
When I was young, I had a number of pen pals. Remember the pen pal? A stranger you would write to for no good reason, with little hope of ever actually meeting, just for fun?
Of course, we’re all too busy for that now. I mean, who communicates with random strangers in the hopes of making connections? That would just be silly…
Ahem.
There seems to be a dearth of letters nowadays, though; and let me tell you, I just won’t stand for it.
And so, my sister will be the recipient of a card, probably receiving it tomorrow.
It started in 1992. We worked in the same office, a dreadful little place run by two brothers, one of whom was drunk on his own power and the other who was perpetually flatulent. It was an unpleasant, often smelly place.
One day I went to my mail slot, and there it was: A fifty-cents-off coupon for Beano.
For those of you who don’t know what “Beano” is, it’s a pill that you can take prior to eating gas-producing foods, so that you don’t end up like the gas-producing and often room-clearing VP.
The coupon for Beano went between us for several years: in the mail slot, stuffed into coat pockets, slid under the car’s windshield wipers, attached to a pillow.
My sister and I don’t work together anymore, nor do we live together, as we did in those years, but it’s time she saved some money, don’t you think?
I’ve sent her a coupon in the mail with this little quasi-limerick attached to it:
There once was a girl named Karen
Who, when laughing, wet the pants she was wearin’.
But a pair of Depends
Put that all to an ends
And you can hardly tell she’s wearing them, they’re so smooth and comfy.
Caution: Adult diapers. Not to be worn on your head.
None of that is true, of course, but it’s fun to pretend.
Let’s see what she comes back with, shall we?
