Hello. My name is Sharon Blum (pronounced BLOOM), neé Rosenbaum, mother of Sara. Sara, if you’re reading this, did you get my package? I sent it over a week ago. It’s very fragile, there are sweaters (if they are too big send them back, your brother has gained weight and the stylings are unisex). I also included perishable baked goods, please make sure you freeze them immediately or you will get mice and I won’t be there to help this time.
I am writing to you today, The Daily Pennsylvanian, to discuss troublesome matters. This past Sunday I was sitting in my Barcalounger watching The Good Wife on CBS, as I do most Sundays with my husband Saul, unless he’s out of town (he works in insurance). I was really enjoying myself that evening, with a glass of Pinot Grigio in my hand and a warm afghan on my lap. It was a chilly Long Island evening and Saul doesn’t like to turn on the heat. After 34 years of marriage, you learn to make some compromises.
Suddenly, just as the judge revealed his true motives to Will Gardner, I received a text message on my cellular telephone from none other than the UPennAlerts man. He says, “Robbery with weapon at 4000 PINE ST, police on scene, use caution, avoid area.” However, I know of no such “PINE ST”. Sara, do you know what this man is talking about? I hope not, you should avoid this area like the man said.
Needless to say, I was very worried. I ask Saul if he knows of this. I say, “Saul, do you know of this?” He says, “Know of what?” So I tell him that I have received a message from the UPennAlerts man. I say, “Saul, I have received a message from the UPennAlerts man.” He says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Of course he doesn’t--after 34 years of marriage, you want I should be surprised? (I love the man, but if you ask him to fetch the sugar from the second shelf in the pantry, he’s hopeless. He says, “Which side? Left or right?” I say, “Saul, it’s been in the same place since we moved into this house!”)
I call Sara in a tizzy. I ask her if she is all right I say, “Sara, are you all right?” She says, “What? Yeah. Listen, I can’t talk now, I’ll call you on Sunday. Bye.” Sunday! As if we have some kind of agreement, like I’m one of those once-a-week parents. Sara, listen to me: when I call you, you pick up. What are you doing, some kind of rebellion to me? You kids give are making me go grey, hand to God. You’re lucky I have Marco. He’s gay, but he does a good job on my roots so I let it go.
And then, I get another message: “All clear in the area of 4000 PINE ST.” All clear? For whom? I’ll tell you--the criminal, sounds like. What kind of crackpot operation is this school running? I am very disappointed, especially considering what we are paying for our Sara. I mean, Saul’s in insurance, but he’s no John F. Dryden.
Do I make myself clear?
Sincerely, Sharon Blum
