I told everybody at school that you said, “If you keep rolling your eyes at me, one day they’ll get stuck in the up position and won’t come down.”
My friends all rolled their eyes when they heard that one.
I wouldn’t be rolling my eyes if you didn’t boss me around so much.
I bet Grandma never made you earn an allowance.
I’m gonna ask her.
Why do I have to make my bed every day?
It’s so stupid.
I’m only gonna unmake it later.
How come Dad never makes the bed?
And I wish you’d stop asking me how my day was.
You’re snooping and I’m not answering.
“My day was fine.”
Except it really wasn’t fine.
They’re trying to act real cool around some older guys and they didn’t include me ’cause they don’t think I’m really cool.
I’m really upset.
And don’t treat me like a baby.
I’m not a baby.
That’s why I don’t tell you anything.
You act weird and then you try to sit on my bed and talk.
I’m not talking to you.
You don’t understand anything.
Did Grandma sit on your bed and make you talk?
I need to borrow your red sweater.
How come Dad knocks on my bedroom door and you barge in?
I don’t think I should have to eat dinner with the family every night.
Maybe every other night.
I need privacy because I’m growing up.
I hope you’re not mad when you read this letter.
You’re not a terrible mama.
You’re pretty decent and OK.
My friend Paula thinks you’re very funny.
I don’t think you’re funny.
You’re not so bad.
Considering like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz you’re much better than her.
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