I don't know if I ever read my Nancy Drew books out loud to you whenever I hit a particularly gripping paragraph and was sure I had cracked the case, but I if I did, I apologize from the bottom of my heart.
And for every time I rolled my eyes at you, I should get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness.
And every time I was a Ms. Snotty McSmartypants, probably as recently as last week? Yeah, I'm sorry for all those times too.
And for every mess I made and didn't clean up? I'm being repaid in spades, including this afternoon when someone left a trail of pineapple juice on my clean kitchen floor. So I'm real sorry for all those times.
And thanks for not grounding me for life or possibly even taking a hit out on me for all of the above, plus more.
Because I TOTALLY get it now. Really, I do. And if your older granddaughter makes it to her ninth birthday in a month, it will be a miracle.
P.S. If my three younger siblings are reading this, you SO should be thanking Mom too, because I'm confident I wasn't alone in my reign of terror as a kid. In fact, I'm sure you were all worse than me. (Especially you, Mr. Flushes Fruit Down Toilets. Or should I call you Mr. Throws Magnets At Random Shit And Breaks A Window In The Process? Luckily, I think the Ph.D. you're working on cancels out at least half the stuff you did by the time you were six, so you're still one of Mom's four favorite kids.)