I admit it. I’m a wimp. I caved under the pressure to open the envelope. I wanted to respect the sender’s privacy. Really. But I couldn’t resist.
What do you think it was? A Dear John letter? An invitation? A steamy love note? Oh, I wish. The writer in me wanted it to be something mysterious or provocative. But no. It was nothing that exciting. It was a receipt for day care to the tune of over $5,000.00. :shocked: I’m glad I don’t have kidlets who need babysitting.
Doesn’t it make you wonder why the babysitter doesn’t even know where these children live?