Dear People Who Run a Tree Service Out of The Back Of Their Pick-Up:
Please stop ringing my doorbell during my babies’ naptime. Yes, I know that there is a big branch down in my front yard. No, I would not like you to haul it away for me. Please do not look at me skeptically when I say that our chainsaw is in the shop. It really was. Seriously, if you wake my babies up I’m going to haul YOU away. No, I don’t know what that means, either, but it sounds threatening, doesn’t it?
Dear People Who Can’t Get Off Their Cell Phone in Kroger:
You know what? I don’t care that your friend got a job offer and starts next week. Nor do I care that Jeff doesn’t know if he’s going out tonight, or if he’s going to a movie. Jeff is not my problem; my problem is that I just want to buy my Pop-Tarts and go home but you’re in my way. And when I walk by you and hear you say “I love you, too” and I don’t immediately realize that you’re on your phone, I get a little creeped out.