Dear little red pickup truck driver,
I realize that even though you don't know me and I haven't the slightest clue who you are, I am harboring large amounts of anger towards you right now. Let me explain why. You see, we are under a, "snow emergency" in this great little town of Lisbon. When that happens, it means you can't park on a street that has the signs reading, "EMERGENCY SNOW ROUTE, NO PARKING" Now I realize that you may be illiterate and I don't mean to discriminate, but I'm pretty sure judging by the fact that THERE ARE NO OTHER CARS ON OUR STREET, you could figure it out. Your little red pickup truck that is sitting in front of our house is causing me frustration. We happen to live on a snow emergency street and so your parking there....IS ILLEGAL. It is also hindering the snow plow from plowing our street and mainly in front of our mailbox. I spent about an hour this morning with a two foot shovel (don't ask) trying to dig the mailbox out to no avail. Do you know what happens when we don't have our mailbox cleared? You guessed it. NO MAIL. No Christmas cards with cute photos, no new magazines and catalogs and no money from granny...all because you decided that parking and leaving your truck in front of our house was a great idea. Believe me, walking outside to the mailbox is the highlight of my day and you are stealing my sunshine, buddy. Another reason you are slightly ticking me off is now that they won't plow on our street...I have to lug two enormously bundled up children through large wet piles of snow to get into my car. Now I am a short person....vertically challenged maybe, and my pant legs sometimes drag on the ground. Trudging and walking through snow makes my shoes, pants and socks wet....and that makes me cranky. You don't want to make me cranky.....er. Now I realize that the reason your car is sitting there could be for many different reasons.....1. Aunt Bertha slipped and broke her hip and you rode with her to the hospital in the ambulance 2. You lost your keys as you were delivering Christmas presents to the needy 3. You ran out of gas while helping a woman with 14 children into her house. If you were doing one of those...then you can just forget this, but I find it highly unlikely. So all I'm asking is that
YOU MOVE YOUR STINKIN CAR SO THEY CAN PLOW MY STREET!
Simple as that.
Have a good day.
Unhappy mother stuck in her house with nothing better to do than write a fake letter to a truck driver who is m.i.a. I hate winter.