Dear Travel-Weary Parents

                                                      Inspired by a True Story

Dear Mum & Pops,

Due to the fact that you requested a weekly update on your five precious darlings and their crazy babysitter of an aunt (even though its only been four days), I am sitting here typing this out while you're off gallivanting across the country. How's California? How's Gram and Gramps? Never mind. I don't want to know. I'm still upset about the fact that you refused to take your brilliant oldest child with you. (Here's a fun fact: Did you know she has always wanted to explore great ol' Cali? Oh, wait. You don't care, do you?! *insert glaring emoticon*)                                                                                                                                                       Anyway, things have not been so great and wonderful as you are probably imagining. The day of your departure, Aunt Gigi decided to make homemade mini pizzas for dinner. Most outrageous idea ever. (How are you two even biologically related, Mother??) Somehow, in this whole process, she forgot to tell us she CAN'T COOK/BAKE/WORK IN THE KITCHEN. Amanda informed me Gigi had turned the oven temperature to 500 degrees but of course I didn't believe her. She's only four and mixes numbers up in her head. However, once the fire alarms started shrieking and the smoke poured into the laundry room where I was sorting clothes and the fire truck showed up because Vanessa in all her dramatic newly-teenaged wisdom thought we were going to die... I believed her. That was how our Monday night went.

Tuesday was not much better. In a fit of remorse and sorrow Aunt Gigi bought us all chocolate-frosted doughnuts and one chocolate-filled bar from the grocery store that morning. A sort of amends for her felony. Apparently, Luke told her to get a chocolate-free one for him, because he is "dreadfully allergic" to chocolate and has "been in that state the whole decade of his life." (Luke is so informative).  Apparently, Aunt Gigi forgot. But at least she remembered it was something different. Luke took one bite of that filled doughnut and broke out in hives. That is how half of our Tuesday was spent in the hospital.

You really ought to thank the Lord, my dear parents, that we are homeschooled. Otherwise, we would have been expelled from school on account of all the events that have transpired. The house next door finally gained some occupants and Kylie, who had been behaving up until this point decided to wander over and welcome them Wednesday morning. Oh. Did I mention? She forgot to tell us. After lunch I'm sitting there, coaxing Amanda into saying her ABC's over the loud, bossy voice of Vanessa telling Luke to quit acting like such a know-it-all (he was informing Gigi of when to use linear equations and the Pythagorean theorem) when the thought comes to my head that I have not seen Kylie since breakfast. I checked her room, Amanda looked under the bed, Luke examined the attic, Vanessa called every human being who has ever met the girl and Aunt Gigi suggested we start a prayer chain. Then, she panicked and called the police. [note: I think our family will be very well-known in the community by the time you guys return]     

They were not as concerned as we were that a ten-year-old had been missing for a good couple of hours. Actually, from what I heard they appeared to be in a rather jolly mood; probably thought Aunt Gigi was some looney old woman. But then she got mad. Next thing you know we're being interrogated, Kylie's room is inspected for fingerprints and a TV crew shows up. (Okay, not that extreme, but heehee, you probably believed me). Around 5:00pm the whole church has invaded our house and we are in full-blown panic. The door opens and in she comes, freckled face grinning, hazel eyes twinkling. "You guys are having a party without me?" she exclaims. A church mother faints, Amanda squeals and I get mad. Kylie, being the friendly, outgoing and lively person that she is had been sitting at the table of our new neighbors entertaining them for oh, about eight or so hours. We are all very upset about this and Aunt Gigi has forbade Kylie from leaving the house without notifying any one of us. Even Amanda.

It is very sad when a person comes to the realization that I have made none of this up. Poor Aunt Gigi. She is so exhausted and traumatized that I ordered her to rest all day Thursday, and she didn't even complain. I had free reign in the Slabach household. *insert evil laugh* Your children miss you both dearly and once you get back there is some disciplining that must be done. Vanessa refuses to obey my commands and pouts all day, reading her romance novels and being dramatic - please, please don't let her get away with this. Kylie, with the exception of her disappearing act, has been very good and helpful, but somebody simply must talk to her about cleaning her room. (She's been stuffing everything underneath the bed). Luke is perhaps the most well-behaved of them all. Give him praise when you return for being so diligent and stealing my Algebra book to study it (even though stealing is a crime). Amanda is Amanda, sleeping in my bed at night, saying her ABC's in her sleep...

And me? I am fine, thank you very much, but still angered I was deprived of a long stay in the Golden State aka California aka Paradise. Don't go to the bad parts of San Francisco, and please eat no Chinese food for me.

Love you both very much and hope to see you soon,                                                                         

Your Beloved Daughter,

JC