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Wednesday, April 5, 2017


Dear Youngest Child of Mine,

Kid. You are killing me.

I get that I was not an easy teen myself and that perhaps I have been somewhat spoiled.

I get that you don't like to read, but somehow you must have read and memorized the chapter on how to be a challenging textbook teenager.

Dude, you are wearing me OUT right now.

I feel like I don't know what to do with you right now. Your potential and smarts are high but they aren't being reflected in your school work. Your behavior at school is earning you emails to your parents. Your sweet-sour attitude at home is wearing thin.

Are you bored at school? Are you having attention issues that need to be addressed? Do you think you know better than your teachers and so you only have to follow the rules that you think are relevant or important or fair?

I don't even know what the heck the issue is but I do know this: you have had three strikes, my friend.  Three emails in a month's time from your school and the SHIT IS ABOUT TO HIT THE FAN when you get home.

Remember Baby Boot Camp? Well, it's coming back and it isn't going to be pretty.

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