Open Letters

Gratuitous Solo

Dear YaYa Sister,

Next time, dearest daughter, if you're feeling a little churning in your tummy, turn your head away from Daddy's computer.

Hope you feel better soon, sweetie!

Love, Mama


Dear Me,

Yes you. Next time, don't use your husband's computer to keep the kids occupied with a DVD. Dummie. No, just kidding, I don't talk to you that way anymore, remember?

Okay, bye. (Just kidding, I'm still here!)



Dear Chinua,

I'm so, so sorry. I hope it can be fixed. If not, I'll auction off my left liver on my blog and make us some money for a new one. I only have one liver? Bummer.


Your Wife


Dear Weather in Goa,

You call this a winter? Serious, though? This is all we get?

Listen, if you need some tips, I'm here. I hail from the True North Strong and Free. So just let me know, because you are losing in the winter department. This is like a weak autumn, even. Heck, Goa, this is SUMMER. Alright.

Glad we are clear,



Dear Well Water,

I'd appreciate a little more effort in the category of "making the laundered clothes smell fresh instead of like they've been left under a junkyard couch."




Dear Goan neighbors,

I am wearing pigtails. It's true. No, your eyes do not deceive you. And yes, it is funny! I'm laughing too. I'm even a bit startled. And yes, my head looks incredibly big with these giant branches sprouting from above my ears. But it was just that kind of day.


Your neighbor, the one with the four kids


Dear Kid A,

You can never know how much it means to me that you laughed at my corny jokes tonight. Your smile makes me want to sing.




Dear Person who Wrote in the Dust on the Back of my Van,

I don't read Konkani!

But what did it say? I'm curious. Wash me? Don't park here? Just married?

Just wondering,

A friend in the village


Dear Bow-tie pasta,

I believe that you taste good anytime, anywhere.

A true fan,



Dear Superstar Husband,

Oh, and I'm also sorry about the bad choice in eating that samosa in the market the other day, and then convincing you to eat one too! Heh heh...

Maybe if they had actually tasted edible, we would have been able to overlook the bowel problems that have ensued, huh? No?

Ha ha, whoops!


Your adventurous wife


Dear Sand,

The beach is your designated space. Not the sheets. Thankssomuch,

A Housewife


Dear Beach,

See you at sunset tomorrow!


Love, this happy traveler


Dear Northern California,

I think that heaven will be a little bit like you.


A little homesick