If you would like me to go on a diet, just say so. You do not have to shrink all my clothes in the dryer to make me think that I have mysteriously gained thirty pounds overnight. While I do appreciate your efforts at domestic assistance, I was nearly rendered unconscious this morning from lack of oxygen while trying to put on my underwear. I was also saddened to see that my favorite sweater and nice jeans fell victim to your sadistic washing efforts. The cashmere was donated to the pug puppy down the street and my sexy Seven jeans (one of my few pairs of non-"mom" jeans) went to our three year old neighbor. Of course, this warrants an emergency shopping trip in my future.
Love, Your (favorite) Wife
PS A friendly reminder: We are babysitting our friend's children tonight and it is raining out. That means that my original plan to let them run around in circles in the yard until they fall over from exhaustion will not work. Please be home at a reasonable hour to help me dole out Benadryl and line them up in front of the TV.
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