Dear, Ms. Grandmother, Hey! It’s me. The Kid! Oh, calm down already. You knew I’d be brilliant. Now just listen.
Here’s the deal. I will require the finest Egyptian cotton for my sleepers. Diapers are to be silk and satin. Blankies will be woven into the softess fleece from Tibetan yaks. Colors are up to you. You’re good with color. But no plaid! Hope you’re out of your plaid period. I hate plaid.
When I’m hungry, feed me immediately. I’m not waitin’ through any protracted canape courses. When I cry, do the cuddle and rock thing. I hope you remember how. By the way, not be disrespectful, but when did you get so old?
Now Ma and The Old Man will be crampin’ my style with the “Nos,” “Don’ts” and “Be Carefuls.” Don’t tell me they won’t! I know them pretty well already, let me tell you. You might be surprised to hear I’ve been around the block a few times. Mostly with Ma and the dog. Mostly. So YOU will spoil me rotten! Hear? I’m not waitin’ to taste the finer things in life. You will take me birding and to the Chicago Botanic Garden forthwith. Same goes for Mr. Grandfather. (I tried his e-mail but it bounced back). So tell him from me that I expect to be exposed to the murky, sketch world of stamp and coin collecting at the get go.
Regarding Uncle Nick: When he forgets to burp me, just chill. We have a special thing going. We’re strategyzing plans. Big plans! You’ll see. Tried to reach him on his cell but his mailbox is full. So just tell him I’m really pumped!
A word to that 2-year old across the street you hang with: Just tell that Baby Blastocyst Bubble Head that your leaf collection is mine! Ditto the books you hauled down from the attic. Especially, the Carl books and the Maurice Sendak ones. Oh, and the “Child’s Garden of Verses.” That was Mom’s fave. So tell that kid to keep his grubby hands off my books! Mine!
Last but not least, those 4 sorry felines are in for a life change. I’m not sharin’ any soft, warm laps with them. They dis my space, and I’ll squeeze their little furry ears.
Got it? OK, sign 2 copies of this agreement, get them to my people and they’ll get a copy back to your people. You don’t want me to take legal action. And delays will not be tolerated! I’ll be about a gazillion more cells in no time at all!
Writing from the Womb, I remain blissful, The Kid
Originally written as a Mother’s Day gift to her daughter, Chick Hayman shares her humorous take on soon-to-be-born baby’s first e-mail with Make It Better. Do you have something funny you’d like to share with us? Send it to [email protected]