Dear Noah and Lucas,
Today I went to Target to get some fun stuff to send to each of you at school.
Noah, I felt so bad when I heard you were injured last night during one of the first soccer matches you’ve played as a college freshman and needed stitches in your forehead. Candy heals all wounds.
Lucas, you had asked me to send you the Under Armour sandals you left here after coming home for a visit last weekend, so I sent them along with some way cool socks I found that I thought you’d like.
I also purchased a few things for myself, and can’t seem to find one of the items. I packed your respective shipping envelopes in the Target parking lot rushing in order to get to the post office before it closed. In my haste I was a little careless.
So, if either one of you finds a bottle of nail polish called “Big Daddy” please know I did not send it to you on purpose. I bought it because I thought it would be a groovy color on my nails when Richard/Dad and I go to Vegas next week to celebrate his birthday.
Just to be clear, I bought the nail polish for me, not either of you. I bought it because I liked the color. It’s unfortunate that the name of the color is “Big Daddy” because it makes me sound a little less wholesome than I am.
Whoever happens to be the recipient of the nail polish, please just throw it out. We don’t ever need to speak of this again.
In anticipation of the horror I imagined would be on your faces had you not been warned before opening your packages from me, I thought I would just let you know that “Big Daddy” was meant for me. And, I just realized that last sentence did nothing to make this situation any better.
So, Noah, I hope you’re feeling better, and Lucas, I hope you won’t be too embarrassed to introduce me to your new friends when we come to visit you at school next month.