To my older sister. I’m sorry S and I called you a big, fat buffalo. You were neither big, nor fat, nor a buffalo. I’d love for you to, once again, call me a skinny string bean.

To my dad: I’m sorry that when I was like 8 years-old I put on all the play make-up my little heart could and made you take me to the store looking like that. I am so embarrassed for myself. I did, as you pointed out, look like a mix between a dying clown and a hooker. Thanks for taking me anyway and for not saying “I told you so” when people stared at me.

To my sisters. I’m sorry I insisted on picking brussel sprouts as my vegetable of choice for EVERY time I got to pick that night’s vegetables. I did it b/c I knew you hated them and I didn’t mind them. I’m pretty sure y’all did that with squash and lima beans. I farking hated those. I still hate lima beans.

Random lady at the grocery store: I’m sorry, that when I was a cashier and you were in my checkout lane, I slammed your chips to the end. I did it b/c I was 1) a hot headed teen and 2) you had more than 10 things in your basket and I was cashiering the express lane. I’m also sorry that when you said, “Hey! Don’t crush those! I have to eat them!” I replied with, “You don’t need to.” I was kind of an a** to you.

Dear mom: I’m sorry my sisters and I incessantly bugged you during the 6 hour drive to Granny and Pop’s house. I’m pretty sure we were as bearable as a root canal with no pain meds. It was mostly S & K’s fault….and not at all mine. Thanks for listening to us sing, on repeat (ad nauseum) every Whitney Houston, Paula Abdule, NKOTB, and Bon Jovi song we could barely remember the words to. Sorry we told you to shut up every time you sang in the car.

Dear Festus the wiener dog: Sorry my sisters and I led you through contraption after contraption with the false promise of cheese. Bless your yappy little heart. There was never any cheese. As smart as you were, you fell for it every time. You were a good dog. Thanks for sharing your kibble with us….even if it caused mom to freak the frick out.

Dear Shadow-Pounce De’Leon-Shade-zee-babe the cat: Sorry my sisters and I insisted on dressing you up, putting make-up on you, and doing your hair. I totally understand why you ran like a shart every time you saw one of us. Despite your numerous, vicious attacks (for which I totally deserved and still have scars) you were a good cat and a great dance partner.

To Sereesha in middle school: I’m sorry I put that note in your locker that said you smell. I mean, you did smell. But, I had to retort for you making fun of my hair. Even though I did, as you stated, have a lump in the middle of my hair. Especially when your hair was crazy big and had lumps too. We really should’ve been nicer to others.

Dear Really Old Blind man that walked into the glass wall: I’m REALLY sorry I laughed so hard I almost peed myself when you walked into the glass wall, fell down, got back up, and walked into it again. It had been a really long day at work. I’m glad the guard steered you in the right direction….eventually. I guess…I don’t know, I was hiding behind the teller line so you couldn’t see me laughing…even though you’re blind…

Dear sweet baby girl LC: This is a preemptive apology. I’m sorry that when you are a teen I will take every chance I get to tell people about the time, when you were three and I was drying you off, after your bath. You pointed to your nipples and said, “These are the boobies I not have yet.” It was, by far, one of the cutest things you’ve ever done.