Dear Father

Stop sending me pictures of your feet lounging on a chair, especially when said chair is planted in front of the Caribbean ocean. Dad is on vacation in Jamaica this week and I could not be more jealous. That's one thing that super sucks about living smack in the middle of the country...no easy access to an ocean. When I was a little girl, we went on vacation every single year to Myrtle Beach, SC. My mama adored the beach and raised her girls to feel the same way. All it takes is one whiff of that pungent saltyness in the air and it's like I can feel the stress of the real world melt away. Add the sound of the ocean waves crashing into the sand, the warm grittiness of sand between my toes, and crazy wind blown hair and there's really no where else I'd rather be. Let's just say, when I get to heaven, I hope my room in God's house comes with an ocean view.



See? Just evil. I better be getting a shell necklace or something for putting up with this brand of torture, pops. Just sayin'...