Etiquette(y)
An Open Letter to the Attendees of My Daughter’s Birthday Party, Written After Drinking Eight Beers
It didn’t have to come to this, people
Dear party guests,
I apologize in advance for sending out a thank you letter en-masse (trust me Barbara it’s a term) but I’ve been forced to break with tradition. It seems that SOMEONE (my wife Carol, ladies and gentlemen!) didn’t keep a list of who gave what to my daughter but I’m choosing to rise above the situation because I have a modicum of etiquette. We live in a society with rules, Carol.
I don’t know who gave my daughter a puzzle but it’s not the 1820s anymore. Also, the only people who enjoy putting them together are widows hoarding a clowder (YES IT’S A WORD BARBARA) of cats in a utility apartment above a bowling alley. Speaking of which, do you know who’s going to have to put this damn thing together? Me. The guy with horrible spatial skills and a deep sense of denial over the need to wear bifocals.
To whoever gifted the board game Candyland, I’d like to thank you for providing me with an opportunity to spend fifteen million tedious hours with my daughter. Next time just give me a revolver with one round in the chamber. At least Russian Roulette eventually ends.
