A Letter To Mom
Imagine … a letter from an eight-year-old son to his mom.
I was talking to my friend Billy today, and he was telling me how much fun he had with his family over the weekend.
He said Saturday they went to the park. They took a hike. Mom, I have never taken a hike; could we do that sometime?
When it started to rain, they ran in the rain, got all wet on purpose, and laughed and laughed. I asked, but he said they didn’t catch cold at all. Oh yeah, in case you were worried, he said their clothes dried no problem.
Saturday night, they all lay out on their back deck on a blanket and looked up at the stars. He said they call it “star gazing.” Gazing … isn’t that a cool word, Mom?
Sunday morning before they went to church, they had “flying family flapjacks” for breakfast. Billy says that’s where his dad throws the pancakes across the room, and they have to catch them on a plate. They don’t even care if the pancake hits the floor, and it makes a little mess. They just all yell “five-second rule,” and it has to get picked up real fast.
For dinner last night, they sat on the floor in the living room and shared “If I could be King for a day, I would … _____________” dreams with each other. He said it didn’t even make a mess. Anyway, Billy’s dream was to spend an entire day playing with orphans and sharing his toys. He told me he learned about orphans at church. Mom, what’s an orphan?
He asked if I wanted to go to church with him next week. I didn’t tell him you said we were too busy to go to church, but I sure would like to go. I asked him if computers were allowed in church because I know you always like to look at yours. He said he didn’t think so.
Do you think I could go with him anyway? You could just stay home with your computer — but I want to go.
Well, thanks for reading this. If you have time, please answer and put this in my room.
May I go to church with Billy? Please circle one. Yes or No