A letter to my mom I’ll never send

Dear Mom,

I love you. I really do. But please, please, please, for the love of me, my sanity, and the few naturally-colored hairs I have remaining, STOP BUYING MY KIDS CRAP!!!

I know, I know, you’re Grandma and grandmas are supposed to spoil their grandkids rotten, but seriously, the floorboards are starting to creak from the weight of all the crap you continue to buy and unload here.

Yes, I know it’s your beeswax what you do with your money and yes, I understand that some of what you bring you got at a yard sale. None of that matters! It’s not about your money, it’s about MY HOUSE. Their little rooms are like a toy battlefield. There’s toys everywhere. I know that you think that’d be handled if I were more organized, but truthfully, I can’t be organized because there’s just too much crap to organize!

My kids are all now past the age where they desire to play with toys all day, so please consider buying them an experience: tickets to a concert or event; a subscription to a magazine; admission to a zoo or aquarium; heck even gift cards to the movies would be preferable to cardboard buildable robots or more pieces of hot wheels track.

When they were little, I forced a grin and accepted the mounds of happy meal toys you’d bring each month, but as I look around at all the new doohickeys that are fun to build, but take up space–I’m looking at you Geckobot–I cringe.

So please, do us all a favor and buy them something consumable–and I don’t mean food! (That’ll be another letter. 😉 )

Love,

Imma B.

 

 

 

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