Cruelest Sister in the Work,
I would kill for some VA Beach chicken. This school is known for a lot of really great things, but it’s well prepared food is not one of them.
There is a key to the study on the top shelf of my bookcase, underneath my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Go get it, let yourself in, and ask Dad when he ate last. Do not leave until he give you a detailed answer about his last meal, and make him eat if he does not give you an adequate answer. Go now, I’ll wait.
Seriously, go check.
Okay, welcome back. Demon spawn, huh? I’m guessing you won’t be taking over the daycare when mom gets older, huh? That’s alright. I guess I won’t have to fight you for inheriting the business. As for James and Richard, one, do not let them know that you are calling them the identical terrors. They will love that name and that will only fuel their fires. Two, kindly remind them of their agreement with Miss Bethie, and that just because I am not there doesn’t mean I won’t hear about them. It should help some, but I make no solution promise. Also, don’t bother talking to their mother. That is really just an exercise in futility.
Life at school really isn’t nearly as exciting as you would imagine. I really don’t go out a whole lot. That’s the unfortunate problem with taking twenty some credits, and trying to work as much as possible. Pretty much any free time I get I spend horizontal on the couch, trying to watch something on TV and ending up falling asleep almost instantly. Or, now, I suppose, I spend my free time trying to think of what I’m going to write to you. Woe is the life of the lowly double major without children to watch and fathers to feed.
As for my paper, I got a B+, but I do have a rewrite opportunity, so I should bring it up to an A with that working. Clearly, your imagined presence is not nearly as inspiring as you believe that you are.
I wish you luck with the bratlings. Tell dad to send me his rough drafts when he re-emerges into the real world.
Your loving sister,