Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Teenage Daughter..

A father passing by his teenage daughter's
bedroom was astonished to see the bed
was nicely made and everything was neat
and tidy. Then he saw an envelope
propped up prominently on the centre of
the pillow. It was addressed "Dad".
With the worst premonition, he
opened the envelope and
read the letter with trembling hands :-
Dear Dad,
It is with great regret and sorrow
that I'm writing you, but I'm leaving home.
I had to elope with my new
boyfriend Randy because I wanted
to avoid a scene with Mom and you.
I've been finding real passion with Randy
and he is so nice to me. I know when
you meet him you'll like him too -
even with all his piercing, tattoos, and
motorcycle clothes. But it's not only the
passion Dad, I'm pregnant and Randy
said that he wants me to have the kid
and that we can be very happy
together. Even though Randy is much
older than me (anyway, 42 isn't so old
these days is it?), and has no money,
really these things shouldn't stand in
the way of our relationship, don't you agree?

Randy has a great CD collection; he already owns a
trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for
the whole winter. It's true he has
other girlfriends as well but I know he'll be faithful
to me in his own way. He wants to have many more
children with me and that's now one of
my dreams too.
Randy taught me that marijuana doesn't really hurt
anyone and he'll be growing it for us and we'll trade
it with our friends for all the cocaine and ecstasy we
want. In the meantime, we'll pray that science will
find a cure for AIDS so Randy can get better; he sure
deserves it!!
Don't worry Dad, I'm 15 years old now and I know how
to take care of myself. Someday I'm sure we'll be back
to visit so you can get to know
your grandchildren.
Your loving daughter,
Rosie.
At the bottom of the page were the letters "PTO".
Hands still trembling, her father turned the sheet,
and read :
PS: Dad, none of the above is true. I'm over at the
neighbour's house. I just wanted to remind you that
there are worse things in life than my report card
that's in my desk centre drawer. Please sign it and
call when it is safe for me to come home. I love you . .

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