Dear Lady I sort of slightly know,
Ma'am, your children are named "Laquawna", "D'Yawni", "Sheniqua", "M'Shylika" and "Bob". While I respect your right to name your children whatever you darn well please, I am a bit perplexed by your choices.
Something just doesn't fit.
That being said, I'm certain you are a lovely person and have a lovely bunch of children.
Dear all you folks who are reading this crap,
Please head over to Scrivel and get your laugh on.
Or, you know, whatever.
Really, I don't ask you for much I think.
A home free of psychotic people, the health of my children and dog, a decent job which does not involve the criminally insane who have not yet been captured by the law, the sheer will not to whack my spouse upside the head when he is being, well, himself. All of this...it's not much, is it?
Today, God, I need a favor.
I am willing to accept the fact that my dad has cancer again. I can take that. In fact, when I got the call yesterday? I wasn't even surprised. The proverbial "other shoe"? Well, it dropped.
So I was expecting it. I didn't like it, but I wasn't really surprised either.
But God, can you just make it easy on him this time? Can you make the surgery a little easier for him to handle? Can you make the chemotherapy not so tough? Can you give him something, whatever he needs, so that he isn't in pain all the time?
If you can, I'll forfeit whatever you need me to.