Dear Newspaper Boy,
I feel I need to explain.
You see, yesterday when you came by to collect, my husband and I felt bad that we had no cash. We were so excited to have the money to give you today, I scribbled a note for you to knock on the door and I left the note in the mailbox.
My husband was late at a meeting, so I was alone with both kids. My twenty one month old was at the dining room table scribbling all over her brother's homework. My four year old was on the toilet, but he was scared of monsters so I had to be up there with him. I had a telephone crammed into the crook of my neck - I was pricing tires. And as I waited to assist my son after he got off the toilet, I'd scooped up a big wad of diaper cream on my index finger....