Dear Dark Spirit of the Underworld,
It's time we had a heart-to-heart. While you may have been here first, your presence is no longer welcome in my home. Things have gotten way out of hand lately. It was fine in the beginning when your pranks were small. The husband and I chuckled at your shenanigans at first.
"Oh, look at the mess in the kitchen. Wonder who did that?" (wink, wink)
"Would you check out the mess in the bathroom! Can't imagine who did that!" (nudge, nudge)
"Wow, I can't believe what a disaster the kids' bedroom is. I have no idea how it got so messy." (wink, wink, nudge, nudge)
"Check out the living room. There's half a box of cereal in the couch cushions. I have no idea how that could have gotten there." (chuckle, chuckle)
"Ha ha, does anybody know how a pair of Underoos ended up hanging from the ceiling fan in Mom and Dad's bedroom? We can't figure it out!" (giggle, giggle, SNORT!)
Yes, for a while, it was amusing. We laughed quietly to ourselves as we cleaned up the messes. It was no big deal. You were a novelty and novelties are to be enjoyed.
But no more! I am sorry, O Servant of the Dark Overlord, but you must go now! There is no excuse for what you've done to my house. I am humiliated when people drop by unexpectedly because it is always such a disaster in here. We can no longer live in a home that looks like wild monkeys have taken up residence. I am tired of crunching cereal underfoot as I trudge through the house in the middle of the night heading to the bathroom. I am sick to death of finding things where WE all know they don't belong. I'll give you some examples: dirty clothes everywhere, toys in the dishwasher, food in every crack and crevice of every room. Your little games are no longer funny either. Turning the refrigerator to the highest setting and the freezer turned to the lowest (thus freezing and thawing all the wrong foods) isn't a game. Playing with the buttons on the dishwasher isn't a joke to us. Screwing up the color on the TV gets on our nerves. Flooding the bathroom is not a game. Oh yes, the list is long and we are frustrated. What might be funny to you is not amusing to us. Please stop playing your little games and leave us in peace.
I realize that you may feel you are being unjustly accused, but I don't know where else to place the blame for these things. I asked the kids and they said they don't know how things got so bad here. They proclaimed their innocence of the charges. I know it wasn't Dad or me, so that leaves us no other option for placing blame but at your feet.
I would be more than happy to write you a reference that you can include with your resume when you seek other employment. I just think it's time we parted ways. You've done all you can here. It's time you moved on to another family. I'm sure there is some family out there with small kids who would be perfect for you. We'll get together and discuss your severance package later today. But for now I think it would be best if you left. Please don't make me call security.
I wish I could say it's been a pleasure working with you, but that would be a lie.
Happy to be rid of you,
Mom
PS. If you could clean up the mess you made last night before you go, I'd be really grateful. I'm not the maid, you know.
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