Funny Funny Funny

After rifling though a box of some of my old papers, I came across some notes I had written my mother, about 40 years ago. I routinely sent her mail, (most of it hate mail). After being punished (and not allowed to come downstairs) I would sit on the top step of the forbidden staircase and airplane it down to her. Folded with care and craftsmanship, into a miniature craft looping and twirling its way through the jungles of furniture and folded clothes, hopefully landing in a spot that it would be easily seen.

I never realized that she saved them, but reading them now, they provide enlightenment and entertainment...and it doesn't hurt that they are funny.

One such note goes like this:

In pencil on slightly faded lined paper:

Dear Mom,

( the first line is scratched out, and then I begin again on the second line: Spelling is exact -

every thing I try to do you always blam it on me. how do you know I do it mabye tracy did it

Your frind

Lisa

(Tracy is my sister)

There are others, many others actually. Depending on the punishment the notes were benign to very angry. When I was angry? The name I signed on the note went from "Your frind" to the Green Fanthom. Clearly, I was trying to scare my own mother. But alas the joke was on me!
The Good German could scare the crap out of anyone, even my father, which may have had something to do with why he eventually left.

Yesterday I took the note, and bought a bold, black, frame and now it sits on a table in my hallway.

The version I write about is mild, compared to the rest..." You hate me and like tracy better" was a common theme, and I complained a lot about not getting to wear a pretty pink party dress, (not to a party but out to play) I used the word hate a lot, and even then told it like it was.

Some things never change.