Dear Colin Firth,
Hello. My name is Maria – your future wife.
P.S. You look really cute in your jammies right now – don’t ever close your curtains.
Dear Ex-Boyfriend from a previous life,
You still owe me money from that dinner you took me to, and then conveniently forgot to bring your wallet.
Sincerely, Me (a.k.a. The one that should have run the other way after that crap date.)
Dear FedEx dude,
Thanks for bringing me my packages. Stop staring at my boobs.
Dear Pervy Contractor Dude,
Thanks for dropping off your overpriced quote. Stop staring at my boobs.
P.S. You are never coming into my house, unless you have one of those Face Off face switchoffs with Colin Firth.
Dear Movie Industry,
If you could make a flick starring Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Colin Firth, and make them nice, Greek boys that cook and clean and buy their wives handbags and Starbucks religiously, that would be super fun.
Love Me (a.k.a. The wife in need of some pervy material for those husband-is-travelling moments).
I still haven’t received one of those Free Starbucks for Life cards in the mail. I figure with the amount of lattes that I have purchased since having sleepless babies, I have successfully purchased enough shares to actually demand that damn card, so get with it.
Love Love Love, Me.
P.S. Don’t ever change.
The next time that I get woken up from a deep sleep, simply by the magnitude of your ass gas, be prepared for the carnage that follows.
P.S. Old people sleep in separate beds (and rooms) for a reason dude.
Dear Hyenas that affectionately refer to me as Mommy,
Those toys on the floor don’t actually pick themselves up. Believe me I’ve tried – it’s the reason you’ll find me having a chit chat with your Buzz Lightyear after hours.
Love, The Mommy Management
P.S. Buzz Lightyear has asked that you stop groping him inappropriately. Also, he would like to be stored in the same drawer as Jesse. The dude has needs.