Dear Ethan and Maya,
Last month we planned a fire truck party for your birthdays. How innovative! Thanks to your aunt Karin who unintentionally bid for and won this party package during a charity auction. “Unintentionally” because she almost forgot about it until a week before our originally booked skating party, she called, “So a bunch of fire fighters will come to your house with a fire truck, kids can take a ride on it, and they will cook for the families.” I was all, “Oh yeah! Fire fighters in their uniforms making hot dogs? Bring it on!”
Only the thought of going on a real moving fire truck already blew your minds. And you were literally mentioning it in every other sentence the whole week leading to the party. Especially you, Maya, who kept saying that the party was tomorrow. While that’s adorable at some point I kind of had to wonder if you’re just being hopeful or had no concept whatsoever as to how time works. Because every time I told you, no, it’s days later you’d say, “Right. That’s tomorrow.”
I forgave you because IMAGINE FIRE FIGHTERS MAKING HOT DOGS! IMAGINE FIRE FIGHTERS MAKING HOT DOGS!