Shots

Dear Grandparents,

Just thought you should know a few of the dodgy things that have been going on lately. Your children asked me if I wanted to go bye-bye yesterday. They took me to a very boring building. People were sitting quietly. There were NO toys! Zero. I couldn’t believe it. To be honest, I was expecting something more exciting, like the park, or the mud. There was a water cooler, but daddy wouldn’t let me play with it. Lame-0. But wait, it gets worse. They took me into this smaller room to see some lady I had never seen before. I smiled at her because, you know, it’s nice to be nice. But, really, what’s a kid got to do to get some cheerios in this place?!

Then, that awful lady—I knew she was no good the minute I saw her—stabbed me in the leg with a huge needle! Now I’m no weenie or anything, but it hurt real bad. I screamed and tried to get away from the lady, but all three of them held me still! Even Mama, the usual pushover! Can you believe that? I calmed down real fast, thinking I might get a prize or a treat or something. At this point, I would have thought your children would have enough sense to take me to the park that very minute after putting me through such an ordeal. But they let her stick me again! And then one last time for good measure!

I’m writing to register my displeasure. I’m sure you’ll be on my side and I’m hoping you can do something to help these amateurs I’m stuck with.

Love,

Asher H. Bullard

P.S. Can you please send cookies? They won’t give me any. They’re such hypocrites. I see them eating the chocolate chip kind behind my back.