Hate Letters. Sometimes They're Necessary. *Shakes Fist At Murphy*

Dear Murphy:

We've never been the best of friends. (Do you even have a BFF?) (Or would that be Aunt Flo?) (Yeh, probably.)

While I can take things like rain on soccer game days, and your BFF showing up on vacation (which is just mean, and you can tell her that I said so), and even things like chocolate always landing in the dog dish, thereby rendering it completely inedible. But today? Today was totally uncalled for.

As if we didn't have enough to overcome, what with The Boy Who Runs Nekkid Outdoors When We're Not Looking living here and all. We're further pegged as *that* family with The Boy With Two Broken Arms, and The Girl Being Homeschooled So That It Totally Looks Like We're Trying To Hide A Teen Pregnancy. So why did you have to add today to that list? We'll never be able to hold our heads up in public.

Sending the TV repairman to fix our bedroom TV 30 seconds after I totally befouled the master bath was just wrong. We probably have a black mark on our chart at the office now. (Or would that be a brown mark?)

I especially like how you made it a point to have the dog mill at the bottom of the stairs waiting for the nice man to return to their world, thereby making him ask if the dogs weren't allowed upstairs. Touche. Nice touch.

If our cable bill goes up next month to compensate for that man's therapy bill, I'm forwarding it on to you, Murphy.

I Don't Love You,

Me.