Pink’s Birthday Letter to Me

Last week, Pink gave me a sweet, homemade birthday card. Since she can’t quite spell, but loves to write, she spends quite a bit of time each day making different combinations of letters and translating them for us.

But in the case of my birthday card, she just handed me the sheet of paper without deciphering the message. Apparently she felt this one spoke for itself. I’m guessing it said one of the following things…

Dear Mom,
You’re pretty when you wear dresses and comb your hair. But not when you comb it into a ponytail. So stop it.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
Don’t I look pretty in this dress even though my hair isn’t combed?
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
How are my tonsils going to get back in now that the doctor took them out? Will it hurt? Will I get to eat a lot of ice cream?
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
Thank you for letting me chop off all my hair. While I’d hoped to look just like a few friends of mine, I forgot they don’t have curly hair. No biggie. I’m rocking this Madonna circa 1984/Borderline look, don’t you think?
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
Little told me not to tell you what he said to make me giggle uncontrollably this morning. And last night. And yesterday. And the day before… (But it had to do with toots.)
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
I don’t ever want to watch Jesse or Hannah Montana again. They’re terrible. You know I’m right, you even told me so. Enough already.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
The pool wasn’t that cold.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
Can I make a wish on your birthday? If so, I wish to never, ever go to a baseball game again. (TODAY?! DOUBLE HEADER?! WTF?!)
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
Thank you for letting me wear lipstick and have a piece of gum so I would go to Big’s baseball game without crying today.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
When the babysitter comes tonight, I promise not to cry.*
Love,
Pink
*If you let me play on the iPad and sleep in Big’s bed.

Dear Mom,
Remember when Little thought he broke his arm falling off the top bunk and you almost passed out? Daddy said he should have taken you to the ER instead of Little. That was funny.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
This summer I’ve caught six bees, 132 roly polys, 47 snails, 12 spiders, two lady bugs, and four mystery bugs. No really, I counted.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
Remember how you told us not to try to catch bees because we’d get stung, but we didn’t listen? And then Little got stung? I’m glad it wasn’t me.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
You’re really good at putting band-aids on my brothers. But if I’m old enough to do it all by myself, they should be too.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
“Just a minute” means just 60 seconds. If I’m old enough to count that high, you should be too.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
I hope I’m as good at cleaning up barf as you are when I’m big.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
My friend and I need you to come watch our “dance recital”. Right now. No really, now. Right now. You can’t say “just a minute” and you have to come. Now.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
I’m going to change my clothes nine times today. At least.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
I am so tan. I’m the tannest person in our family.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
Thank you for pretending to take me and my babies to Hawaii all the time. But let’s face it, I’ve actually been to the islands, and our living room isn’t cutting it any more. It’s called “summer vacation” for a reason.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
You’re doing a really good job trying to ignore my tantrums lately. One time, I was even tempted to give up. I’m glad I didn’t.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
I will do it—all of the its—by myself today. Until I won’t. And then you will need to do all of the its for me.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
Can we get a pool? And a dog? Actually five dogs since there are five of us?
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
At bedtime tonight, I will be hot, thirsty, have a headache/sore throat/hurt finger, want to sleep in my brothers’ room, and will be not tired enough to go to sleep, yet will be too tired to brush my teeth. Again. So for goodness sake, be prepared this time.
Love,
Pink

Dear Mom,
L-O-
V-E!
There’s a lot of love,
inside of you and me!
Pink

Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure it was that last one. For starters, because it usually is. And also, because she’s right. Again. (Hey, at least I was prepared this time!)

What would your too-young-to-spell kiddo write in your birthday card? You know, if they could.