Sons, There are times that I don’t feel like writing you a letter. These are usually the times when I don’t like who I am,
*A “binky” is a pacifier, if you don’t know* Braxton- Where in the name of all that is good are your binkies? I swear there
Dear Eleanor and Wesley, Yesterday I was mad. Really mad. Afer a really early morning of hard work, all I needed to do was print.
Sons- At the moment I’m typing this letter to you, I am angry. We just returned from an hour long search of the neighborhood for