So today I will be jumping out of an airplane.
Hopefully the parachute opens…
but if not……eh.
I can think of worse ways to go.
That said, I have penned a letter to the most important people in my life should I splatter to my death on some Snohomish general area of ground. I mean, they give the stats of survival and it's pretty promising, but at the same time, I'm going up into the atmosphere in a teensy hunk of metal and jumping out into the abyss at my utter will, with only the promise of a complete stranger to take my life into his hands (because let's be honest, I don't trust no chick) and I can only hope I survive long enough to blog about it.
Dear Only Remaining Sister:
I'm sorry your twin went up with me in the airplane. It was a free ride and she couldn't resist. I would have asked you but you are pregnant and 9 out of 10 doctors say it's a bad idea for you to go skydiving. Of course, I tend to go against the grain and scoff at your so-called "trendy" doctor but to each their own.
Sincerely, your favorite (and quite possibly only) sister.
Dear Teachers of My Boys:
When they come to you with a show-and-tell of a busted umbrella, just go with it…
Sincerely, their deceased mother.
McDonald's only once a year. I say this knowing you will use the general time table of fast food concurring to grandparents which is when the mother says once a year, it really means once a month which really means once every other Wednesday except during Leap Year which means both my kids will get an extra happy meal and fight over the same exact toy.
Sincerely, do they have fries in heaven?
You birthed me.
I birthed them.
By law of the universe, they now belong to you.
ps. Gunner still needs his butt wiped.
Sincerely, someone who never ever has to wipe another human's butt.
Of course, naturally, I saved the best for last...
My true loves, the reason I exist, and the most important part of my goodbye letter. Please never forget me, and always remember the good times. If I could say one thing and one thing only, it would be this...
All I ask, is that she's not a ginger.
Q) What do you call a good looking man with a redhead?
A) A hostage.
Dear Fedex Guy:
She's a whore. Don't give her my stuff.
Sincerely, your one and only whore.
Ok so let's be honest.
The chances of me dying from skydiving is nil to none.
But still…with my luck, we will land just right where a snail will be blocking traffic and my pinky toe will snag it just right where it will trip up my tandem dude on back and force him to tail-end it over my plump pumpkin ass which in turn will create the perfect storm in which my head will knock against his left knee and push my chin into the ground which will hault our perfect landing and I won't get home in time to watch the premier of Survivor nor the finale of Big Brother and OMG I'm going to die.