dear doctors office scale

Dear Doctors Office Scale,

You suck and you lie!!! Do I need to be any clearer?? Your “facts and information” are askew. Listen, I know my numbers, okay. I been stepping on you and your kind for over 4 decades now and I got a pretty good grip on my stats, all right? I am 6 foot and one half inch tall and my weight is always between 185 – 190. Got it?? That’s my facts. That’s who I am. Those are the numbers I been carrying for over 15 years. You feel me??

Now, all of a sudden, you have the audacity to tell me something different?? I don’t think so. Granted, it may have been a few years since I had a check-up, but what you are trying to tell me has got to be wrong. 6 foot even and 235 pounds?? Are you on dope?? First off, where did the half inch go?? I’m not 84 and battling osteoporosis. My spine is fine and I drink lots of milk, so I know you are wrong there. And 235??? Are you kidding me?? Don’t get me wrong, 6 foot 235 are good stats to have . . . . if you are a tailback in the Big Ten. But I am just a warehouse worker in Columbus, Ohio, so I figure those numbers mean to me a high risk of diabetes, asthma and a future candidate as a heart defibrillator patient.

So here’s the deal. Apparently the doc wants to see me again next week . . . . whatever . . . . anyhow, between now and then I expect you to get your weights re-calibrated and your little ruler thing double checked, because next time I step on you, you better be giving me some better numbers. If not, I guess its off to the Biggest Loser for me.

Until then I’m sucking it in,

Matt

dear child safety gate

Dear Child Safety Gate,

I need you to know how much I appreciate you. You give to me a precious allowance that I've always taken for granted, my freedom. When I set you up in the doorway and lock you in, I can feel my sanity flooding back with every confident breath I take. On my side of the doorway is a calm and orderly place. On the other side is a world of chaos and anarchy. You are the stronghold between refuge and revolt. I've always felt close to you.

I have to admit, I'm a little shocked that you've lasted this long around here. It doesn’t matter how many times the kids knock you down and climb all over you, you always seem alert and ready for action during my time of need. I also respect your swagger; you rarely go down without a fight. You've bucked my son about a dozen times and pinched my daughter twice (I know you were just doing your job). I sometimes give them snacks just to leave you alone. I've noticed that you also have a soft side. You give my 1 yr old a shoulder to cry on between her plea's for release.

While you are working, I'm able to have my life again. I get the house clean, shower and try to get my lunch in before the kids make me feel like they are prisoners. Sometimes I will push it a little bit longer and check my Facebook. At some point, however, I am forced to take you down, sacrificing my freedom for theirs. Afterwards, it only takes an hour or two before they are crazy again, so up you go, like a super hero in action. Thank you for the freedom to prepare dinner, do laundry, watch Oprah, write letters, and much more. Thank you for being part of our family. I'm sure that when our little ones are all grown up, you will -no doubt- be adopted by one of my sisters. I hope she will be as grateful for your liberating powers as I am.

Appreciatively Yours,

Kristin

dear chewy brach's christmas tree candy

Dear Chewy Brach’s Christmas Tree Candy,

I imagine that there haven’t been too many people to thank you for just being you, and if there have been none, then let me be the first. Thank you for restoring my Christmas spirit this year. Life, as you know, can get very hectic and stressful, especially during this season. We get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of things that we miss this Seasons true meaning. We have too many things to buy and too little money to buy it all with. We spend what we can’t afford. We go deeper in debt. We pile on the stress.

Then we have too many places to be in too little amount of time. We gotta go to this party here and we have to go see “so and so”, then swing by that party there, then host another party, and then comes the family. We gotta go see your side, then make time for mine, let’s not forget our own immediate family . . . . . this chaos seems to repeat a lot lately. The rush of it all is borderline overwhelming.

Then I saw you. At my Dad’s house in candy dish in the kitchen. It’s really kind of hard to explain exactly how I felt once I seen you. You actually made me stop what I was doing and just be still in your presence. You made everything slow down and seem quieter. You, for one quick moment, took my breath. You see, when I saw you, I remembered Mom. She passed away over 5 years ago, but whenever I see you, I think of her. She always had a dish of you out each Christmas. I actually don’t see you too many other places, but Mom always had a lot of you around. And when you caught my attention, I remembered all the sweet Christmas memories that my Mom helped create. I remembered her telling me that one year we didn’t have much money, but she promised that we would have a bunch of LOVE for Christmas . . . and we did. And as all these wonderful, warm memories flooded through my mind, the chaos of this year just seemed to melt away. I truly was beginning to feel “glad tidings of great joy”. Things started to make sense again. My allegiance shifted from the mall back to the Manger. And it all started with you. Thank you chewy Brach’s Christmas tree candy, I promise to get a bag of you for every Christmas to come.

Merry Christmas,

Matt

dear hubcap [part 3]

Dear Hubcap,

I guess it's pretty clear that you're never coming back. I've

been hanging on to hope for nearly two months now and for

what??? Why should I care anymore? You obviously don’t care

about us. I can understand if you're mad at me for scratching you

on the curb or for the whole "rubber mallet incident", but how could

you just leave the others like this? I cannot imagine how

embarrassing this is for them. YOU ARE DESPICABLE. Not only

that, but you have put me in a very unpleasant position.

Because of your reckless abandonment, I have to tell the

other three that - without you - they are no longer viable members

of our transportation team. I have to tell them that their years of

benevolent commitment have been wasted thanks to an

irresponsible forbearance by one of their own. At this point I wish

you could be found so that we can make it clear how despised you

are. I actually smile when I entertain the idea that maybe you were

picked-up by a bum and are currently employed as his ashtray or

urinal. Is that the life you were hoping for? Did you really have it

that bad here with us? You're NOTHING without us; you will never

amount to anything. Wherever you are, just stay there, you're not

welcome here anymore… I DON’T NEED YOU. If you ever do

show your worthless face around her again, I won't be reaching for

the rubber mallet, I'll be introducing you to the sledge hammer.

SINCERELY,

Nate

dear wobbly-wheeled shopping cart

Dear Wobbly-wheeled Shopping Cart,
Please stop stalking me! You can try and deny it all you want, but we both know you are. How else can you explain the fact that every time I go to the grocery store, I end up with you? I swear you must see me coming and push the other carts out of the way to get to the front of the cart line. I don't realize its you at first, but once I've wrapped my hands around your guide bar and pushed you 15 feet, you show your true colors. Like a very clever predator, you wait until the automatic doors have closed behind me, then you start your demented little dance that torments me so. By then it's too late to turn back, so I am stuck with you the entire journey from deli market to checkout. Very clever indeed.
I know that you are stalking me, because today you magically appeared at Wal-Mart and at Target yesterday. How do you always know where I will be and when? Did you strike a deal with the pre paid cell phones and somehow tap my line? Better still, how on earth do you make it to the next stop on my agenda before I do? It IS a 20 minute drive after all!
I do feel however that I owe you a thank you. After all, had it not been for your constant drifting to the left, I'd have never stumbled across that sweet Ohio State hat for $10 that was misplaced in the jewelry department. Now don't go thinking that makes us friends. Be very clear, we are not. I want nothing to do with you ever again. In fact, the next time you force your misguided, uncontrollable, wobbly-wheeled self into my hands, I will toss you in the back of my Jeep and throw you into the first large body of water I drive by. Go torment someone else and leave me and my family to shop like normal people, instead of going where you want to go.

Hoping this is the end (and wearing a really cool hat),
Jason

dear giant wooden spoon

Dear Giant Wooden Spoon,
This letter is long overdue. I have some serious questions for you and feel that after more than 30 years, you owe me some answers. For starters, how many of you are there??!! It seems to me that every grandparent in the continental United States has some incarnation of you hanging on their wall. What amazing power do you and your kind hold that makes everyone of 'the greatest generation' pull out hammer and nail to mount you in a place of prominence in houses around the country? I swear, I think you were in their house before I was!
Why is it that more often than not, your eternal partner, the Giant Wooden Fork, is mounted not too far away, yet is typically slightly lower on the wall than you? Is this to display your dominance? Is this some sick wooden power play to show the world that the spoon rules over the fork? I for one would think that with its ability to stab things, the fork would reign as king. Yet somehow you and your oblong brethren have pulled off the ultimate coup. Well done.
Lastly, and this is the real heart of the matter, did you derive some sort of sick pleasure from 'tanning my backside' all those years? Yes, I know I shouldn't have set fire to my hot wheels. I know I shouldn't have snuck into the fridge and drank grandpas beer. And I know I shouldn't have shot the neighbors cat with the BB gun (though that cat had it coming). But really, did you have to be so hard on my rear? Couldn't you have maybe flexed a little while granddad was swinging for the fences on my tender little butt? I was only a little lad with a rear no bigger than a volleyball!! Yet you stayed solid, and dished out the punishment as you deemed fit. Then, after all was said and done, you hung there on the wall with your round face looking to the world as though you were smiling about what had just happened. Oh how I despised you.
So, Giant Wooden Spoon, let this letter serve as notice. Unless I wake up one day to find myself suddenly a giant craving a huge bowl of cereal, you and your kind will NEVER be welcome in my house. I may allow Fork to visit though, just to rub it in your stupid round face.

Still feeling the sting,
Jason

dear hubcap [part 2]

Dear Hubcap,

I know that we've had our ups and downs over the years and

I admit I haven’t always been sensitive to your needs. All I am

asking for is one more chance. When I woke-up this morning and

saw that you were gone, my heart broke into a thousand pieces. I

instantly got in the car and began retracing the routes I had taken

yesterday. I've looked EVERYWHERE; the bank, the parking lot at

work, the gas station, the ditch and under every guardrail along the

way… nothing. I have no option but to think that you don’t want to

be found.

I suppose I should've seen this coming; all of the signs were

there but I ignored them. I will assume that the "final straw" was

last Monday when we had that flat tire. After it was fixed and bolted

back onto the car, I remember having some trouble getting you

back into place. I couldn’t figure-out why you were acting so difficult

and resistant. For the first time in our relationship I had to us a

rubber mallet to get you to cooperate. I'm such a fool… It probably

wasn’t even your fault; it was probably that rusty tire rim.

Please forgive me and come back home. The car just doesn’t

look the same without you. I know I can speak for the other three

hubcaps when I say; "you complete us".

Missing you badly,

Nate