Aw, Mad. I sure do miss you. Last night at the hotel I saw an ad for the movie Sky High, and now I owe you an apology.

Remember when I tried to talk you out of watching it, that night at the crawfish restaurant when you told me you wanted to see it? Remember how I told you I heard it “wasn’t funny” and “not that good”? Remember how I couldn’t figure out why you’d even know what that movie was? I thought you were talking about a movie starring Snoop Dogg. Ask your mama. Anyway, that’s why I was such a snob about the movie. I’m sure it’s great. And yes, I promise to call you if I ever get to meet Hilary Duff.

Get better at darts. Your daddy’s going to need someone to practice with if he ever wants to beat stee. I heard he threw three bullseyes in one throw the other night. I guess you must have shown him your little secret for bullseyes — only throwing them when nobody else is in the room. Awesome work, pretty girl.

(PS — you might want to make sure you wash the LA shirt by now. But wear those Chococat sweatbands all day, or Al will somehow make her way back to Monroe, find them while you’re at school and swipe them.)