
Dear Sister,
Well, we were going to go to Orlando first, but Aunt Biddy got it into her head that she wanted to see the Gulf of Mexico. We tried to tell her it was out of our way, but she held her breath so long we thought she’d pass out, so we gave in. I swan, the woman may be in her 90s, but she acts just like a spoiled baby sometimes! And here I thought I was taking a vacation from what I usually have to deal with.
Anyway, we stopped at this place near Tampa called Tarpon Springs. That’s a sponge diver on the front of the postcard, although Itty-Biddy thought it was a space alien. She got so scared, she ran out of the souvenir shop. I’m destined to be surrounded by babies and idiots, I guess. I bought one of those sea sponges for you, Margie. You can use it the next time you take your annual bath.
Love, Edna
Margie: Look at the pot calling the kettle black! Edna, you're a hypocrite. You should look in a mirror if you want to see a baby idiot!
That Itty has always been a brick short. Guess that's because Biddy raised her on home brew instead of milk. Lawsy me. What nut jobs you fell in with there. Takes one to know one.
Speaking of bath, Edna, the mailman says you need to wash off all that stinky French perfume you wear. It's not really from France. He says they make it from stinkweed.
Showing posts with label sponge diver. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sponge diver. Show all posts
Monday, July 21, 2008
Edna and The Sponge Diver
Labels:
florida,
sponge,
sponge diver,
stinkweed,
tarpon springs
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