Thank you for all the work you have done on our cars over the years, and thank you for your very reasonable prices. Along with having a good doctor, dentist, attorney, and hair stylist, a good life requires having a competent and honest mechanic. You Are It.
I do have a tiny bone to pick with you, however. My Volvo has been sitting patiently in your yard for well-nigh a month. As much fun as it has been to drive Smokey's convertible on the occasional warm sunny day, I really do prefer my own car. It has all the little things that make me happy — a functioning tape adaptor so I can listen to my audiobook, a supply of floss picks in the center console (my hygienist loves that I carry them everywhere), and cruise control to save me from a too-heavy or too-light foot. It would be so nice to have all those things again.
It is not your fault that the car has languished so long under your pines. The really good mechanic fell off the wagon (again) and ended up in jail, the parts that Smokey ordered for you to install turned out to be the wrong ones, etc. But please, won't you get one of your mechanics to work on my car so it can come back to me? We miss each other.
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Dear Elder Son,
I cannot tell you how touched I was to learn of your Mother's Day plan: to make the 4-1/2-hour drive from Sioux Falls to Minneapolis on the Saturday, stay overnight with your brother, and drive the two of you to our house on The Day to surprise me. Although of course I would have been delighted if the plan had worked, it was a wise decision on your part to cancel the plan because of overwhelming fatigue; driving while so tired is dangerous. And in this case, it really was the thought that counted. I am immensely touched by your loving and thoughtful intention.
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Do you miss me? I miss you. Perhaps we could get together one of these days for a little light weeding.