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A letter from a very stupid mother
Dear Son,
I'm writing this slow because I know you can't read fast.
We don't live where we did when you left. Your dad read in the
paper that most accidents happen within twenty miles of home,
so we moved. I won't be able to send you the address because
the last family that lived here took the numbers with them for
their next house so they wouldn't have to change their address.
This place has a washing machine. The first day I put four
shirts in it. I pulled the chain and haven't seen them since.
It only rained twice this week. It rained three days the first
time, and four days the second time.
Aunt Sue said the coat you wanted me to send you would be too
heavy to mail with them heavy buttons. So we cut them off and
put them in the pockets.
We go a bill from the funeral home. They said if we don't make
the last payment on Grandma's funeral, up she comes.
Your father has a lovely new job. He has over 500 men under
him. He is cutting grass at the cemetary.
Your sister had a baby this morning. I haven't found out
whether it's a boy or girl. So I don't know if you're an aunt
or an uncle.
Uncle Donald fell in the whiskey vat. Some men tried to pull
him out, but he fought them off, so he drowned. We cremated
him. He burned for three days.
The three Johnson boys went off a bridge in their dad's pickup.
Johnny was driving. The other two were in the back. Johnny
got out okay. He rolled down the window and swam to safety.
His brothers drowned. They couldn't get the tailgate down.
Not much more news this time. Nothing much has happened.
Write more often. Let me know if you don't get this letter.
Love, Mom.
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