A Mother’s Christmas Apology

A mother’s heart rending plea to her son for understanding.

Deer sun

Just a shaught noat to teel yu wy we carnt by yo nuffin for krismuss.

Yesta day I cent yore dad to the supmar … supa ma … shop for a lofe of bred, sum sossij and a collyfoul … calleeflo … cabbij and has he wos cumin bak he past a bilding sight wear a mann wos oldin a roap. The man needed the toil let and he askt ur dadd to hoald the roap wile he whent. Bein as how he’s eezie gohing, yor dad agrea … a gree … sed yes.

At the top the roap went hova a pully and wos tyed two a barrer and anuther man was lodin briks in to hit.

Soon the bar row was hevyer than yor dad. The barrro caym down, your dad went hup and hitt is hed on the pulli but he dident let go of the roap. At the bot tom the barroe landid and tipt ova and the brikes feel howt.

Yore dad was now hevia than the barroo. He caim down and the barro went hup. Wen he landed, yor dad broak his ankhil … anke … leg, coursing him too let go off the roap.

With nuffin to hoald it hup, the bar roe phell dow n and dropt on yore dads hed giving him con cush … consucc … a hed ake.

Wen the amblens aryved the pare o med icks laffed so mutch they dropt yor dad off the stretcha and broak his uther legg.

Yore dad is now in hopsit … horspit … bed and he carnt wurk so we haff no muni and thiss is wy we carnt scend yu anyfink for crismus.

Yore luvin mum


Ps I know my speeling isent gud but as you carnt reed I know yo whill for giv mee.

With due ackowledgement to David Robinson Jnr, whose email containing a letter to a redneck inspired this nonsense.


About Flatcap

Flatcap is in residence, tucked away in his corner of the public bar, where for the price of a brace of brown ales, he will treat you to his world-weary opinions on any and every subject you can think of and a good many you can't.
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1 Response to A Mother’s Christmas Apology

  1. Rebecca says:

    The PS is definitely the icing on the cake.
    Thanks for the laugh.

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