It has only been two days since you were with us, but already my world is different without you here.
I so want my children to develop a strong vocabulary. How will they manage that feat without you here to teach us all alternate words for "poop" or "a female dog"? Or that cigarette boxes make great weights for holding down the plastic covering to protect my furniture (which doesn't actually protect my furniture at all)? Who will I get to show them how to spill texturing mud on my carpet, attempt to clean it up, and then leave me with a chalky discoloration and pretend that you fixed the problem? How else can I teach them about the difference between white and off-white when you only halfway painted the ceilings in my master bedroom, but not their bedrooms as well? And I certainly have been going about it all wrong when I've told my children that when you wipe something down, you need to rinse your rag out on a regular basis. Who knew that the way to do it was wet once and then proceed to smear all that dirt or dust onto everything else? At least you left me a parting gift of shattered light bulb on the bathroom floor. And how sweet that you were so worried about how much I would miss you, that you didn't even bother to tell me that it had happened. If I hadn't been here to hear it happen, I never would have known of your gesture or noticed that you tried to make it all easier on me by moving another light bulb over and leaving the end one without a replacement.
While I miss you so much, I don't know that I could handle the pain I would feel to have you come back here to fix it all and then leave us again. So I'll just manage on my own, although I do want to let the company that sent you in to my home know of your professionalism.
Until we don't meet again,