A few years ago, our oldest daughter decided to play an April fools joke on our friends and family. Writing the following letter she had people stirred up all the way in Russia! I only fear what she’ll do this year. . .
This was a april fools joke I played on my friends…I emailed this to them…a few of them thought it was for real!
Happy April 1st!
I was just gonna let you know the sad news. Mom and dad told me a few hour ago that we are moving to Wyoming. Supposedly, dad got some great job offer that will “improve our lifestyle” and put us in the position to buy a nice house. We are moving the week after convention. The property is 12 miles in the wilderness….not a neighbor in sight. There is no running water, and no electricity. That means no email. I think I will die. Well, almost. There is a well, and you have to go outside to get to the outhouse. The house has seven rooms, so at least I will have my own room. The house is large, but the lack of running water, and electricity make a large house seem not so worth it. The nearest meeting is 40 miles away…at least there is a meeting. And, there are injuns. Ahem. I suppose that I am racist for saying that, but the site the property was listed on said “you may have the occasional wild indian sighting, but if you give them food, they will eventually leave. There hasn’t been a scalping for 12 years now, so don’t be afeard.” Well, let me tell you, I am “afeard” I am afraid for my hair, and my life. I guess I won’t be going to a public school next year…there isn’t one!! I wish I could talk them into letting me stay, but it would be useless. I have cried, begged, pleaded, bribed, complained,and broke a few china dishes, but to no avail. It is settled, and we are going. For all I know, a rattle snake will eat me alive in those dark, un-inviting woods. Or a Injun will take my hair, and hang it above the entrance to his “Wig-wam” or whatever they call it. There is nothing to be said, except I would eat a raw slug just so we could stay. And that’s a lot…You know how slugs and I get along. I wish, with every bone in my body that we could stay where we are. But, it makes no difference. I will not get to spend my summer relaxing by the poolside…I will spend my summer weeding the over grown garden, kneeling beneath the scorching sun. I will be like a flower, in Antarctica….I will be out of my habitat. When I lay in my bed, I will hear the sound of crickets (i despise crickets…the lousy loud chirping they make is enough to drive ANYONE crazy) instead of the lulling sound of a train as it blasts it’s horn in the gentle breeze. I will be like a plant, put in a closet…given no life…wilted and weary. As I write this to you, my dearest friends, tears stream down my face. I have yelled until my throat was sore. I have cried, until my shirt is spattered with tears, like a coat in the rain. I have sobbed in despair,till my pillow-case was clammy, and clinging to the wet pillow. I can cry no more. I must accept my fate, even though I hate it. No library. No schools. No shops for 25 miles. No internet for 30 miles….I won’t think of it any more. It is too terrible. The worst part is we have no mail box. No mail-men drive on dusty dirt roads, in the forest just to get a letter to little old me. nope. We don’t even have a PO box. At least my mom will be overjoyed because we can have huge smelly cows, mean, skinny goats, and annoying, clucking hens. It is late…and although I fear I will not be able to sleep to night, I must shut my eyes, and think of the ocean, a flower field….just SOMETHING besides…ugh…I…I’m not even going to say it. Well, with that, I say, I hope you have a good day, or a good night, or a good whatever time you read this, for I fear I will not have a good ANYTHING.
Mom’s Little Lady