Do you know what’s really difficult about the blog-writing process? If you answered coming up with a sufficient opening line, having detailed and interesting topics, using well-constructed sentences, editing, believing it is decent enough for public viewing, and clicking the ‘publish’ button, then you must be one of the seven people I repeatedly beg to write a post for me each time I try to avoid this endeavor. It seems the only part that isn’t difficult is the self-deprecating sarcasm, because I am, after all, as my son puts it, “my own target audience”.
You know who doesn’t struggle to put words down on paper, then keep the letter in a time capsule that is Google Docs to be read on her fourteenth birthday, and not forget about it the day she turns 14? Anna.
During the traditional present opening in the living room yesterday evening, Anna brought along a piece of paper on which she had written a letter to herself a year or two prior for just this occasion. Cajoling her for only a minute or two, we convinced her there was no choice but to read it out loud. It did not disappoint.
Before I get to that though, I need to remind you who we’re talking about here. This is the girl who cried for the first year of her life, spent the next nine years not talking at all, then became one of the comedians and clever-talking individuals this family has. An interesting accomplishment, to be sure, her quick wit often means I’m copying down quotes from things she’s said nearly every day.
Here are some examples:
“My toe is sad,” I remarked.
“Why?” Anna asked.
“Because it doesn’t want to walk in these shoes anymore.”
She replied, “My toe is sad too.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because it’s depressed.”
“Do you have a history?” Anna asked Caleb, pretending to be the doctor in the office while waiting for the pediatrician to come in.
“Yes,” Caleb replied.
“Okay, and how long has this been going on?”
Acting like two business women out on the deck, Ellie leaned over the patio table demanding, “Give me ten of your stocks!”
Anna replied, “I’m stalking ten people and I can’t give you any of them!”
While we’re on the subject of writing things down and Anna’s personality, let me share with you her birthday list.
From the earlier picture, you can clearly tell she was given presents. What isn’t clear is whether the gifts were anything from her list, though she did declare this birthday to be in the top twenty of all her birthdays, so I guess we did okay there.
Hopefully you have some sense of this girl now, so her message to herself shouldn’t come as too much of a shock to you. Without further ado, the letter:
Anna Allan
Letter for the Future (14)
Anna, what’s it like being a teen for two years? Just kidding, I couldn’t care less. Well, you’re fourteen now so I expect you to be far more mature than I am right now. Do yourself a favor and go to the library right now and get yourself a good book. Whatever you’re doing currently is not important.
Anyways, are you still climbing? You better be, otherwise you should be very sad that you’re missing out. I am assuming my musical taste has changed by now, however you better not be listening to A. country music, or B. Taylor Swift. If you are listening to either, do yourself a favor and commit suicide.
Are you ready for your interview? Ha! What a loser. Imagine stressing about a future job…If you think about it, it’s not as bad as an audition because the chance of you getting into an orchestra? Very slim. The chances of you getting accepted into Chick-fil-A? As long as you don’t have a criminal record (if you do by now, I am very impressed), your siblings’ reputations will give you a nearly automatic acceptance. You can always lie on your resume. Also, if you don’t have a phone by now, it’s time to get one. You know exactly how to bug Mom. Make good choices! Go to bed early once a week, maybe, and maybe go on more walks, and insult James once in a while, just so he knows his place.
Okay, I’m going to wrap this up now. Don’t let anyone bully you. Only you are allowed to insult yourself, you sloppy, fat, pig-faced idiotic moron.
All in favor of instituting mandatory letters-to-your-future-self-to-be-read-on-later-birthdays please say “Aye!” so I have fodder for at least six posts a year!
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