Monday Love Letters

I have fallen ill on this chilly, overcast Monday, and I am totally taking advantage of a sick day.  I am in sweat pants, curled up in a blanket, watching Max play with his toys, and playing on my computer.  My goal for the day is to watch the Katy Perry movie.  It is good to have goals, right?

 

I devoured a bowl (okay, two bowls) of my favorite cereal for breakfast, and it inspired me to dedicate Monday blog posts to love letters to inanimate objects.  Or maybe even animate objects.  Who knows- this could really go any direction.  So, without further ado...

 

 

 

Dear Peanut Butter Crunch,

I love you, and I will always love you. And I don't feel guilty about loving you. 

The reason why I often leave you behind at Fred Meyer's  is because your box is small and your price is high.  It isn't your fault.

I don't want you to feel bad, like you don't fit into my organic milk world.  Yes, you contain a lot of sugar, but so what? Who cares?  Sometimes in life we have to treat ourselves to something special and nostalgic and delicious, and that is what you are to me.   

Thank you for having a bigger box and a lower price at Target.

Love always,

Annie

 

Dear Jack LaLanne Power Juicer,

I love you. 

We have only recently jumped on the juicing bandwagon, and you are giving us quite a ride.  You are fun and easy to operate, and the juice that we make together is delicious, except for when I use radishes or jicama.  Or too much grapefruit and too little orange.  Yuck. 

I referred to you as a toy- "adult toy" was what I actually said, but then corrected myself when I realized how terribly scandalous "adult toy" sounds- but you are more than a toy; you are now a kitchen staple.  Welcome!

Much love,

Annie

 

 

Dear Mariners,

I love you do.  I really do.  I've always felt that the Oakland A's fill that baseball shaped hole in my heart, but I've come to realize that you are my team.  You need me.  You need everyone that you can get, because, let's be honest, you stink. 

I'll support you this year, and I'll cheer for you, and I'll hope and pray that you get hits.

With love,

Annie

 

PS- Felix can throw as many perfect games as he wants, but he will never replace Dennis Eckersley or Barry Zito in my heart.