Your mother and I are writing you because we’ve heard about your actions today, and we are concerned. We knew that, now that you’re off to school, there is potential for you to get into trouble. It was a risk we thought we could take. Little did we know.
Sure, happy birthday and all. But come on, not this happy. Not today.
It is not your fault that your special day has fell on the world’s special day (of mourning, that is), but it is ultimately a cross that you have to bear. Unless you want to become one of them Mohammed loving bastards. And not in this house you won’t. Remember, I said it’s a cross you had to bear, not a turban.
Will you be able to celebrate in a more joyous manner in the future? We certainly hope so since, as you know, the healing has begun. However, I should caution you that a full celebration may still be impossible since, as you also know–not unlike a stubborn case of syphilis– the wounds will never fully heal.
Son, maybe it’s easier if I just come out and say it. Your mother and I are disappointed in your expressions of joy on this day. It reeks of selfishness, and that’s not who we’ve raised you to be. In fact, we’re regretting telling you the exact time you were born. You do not need to celebrate that– especially not in the form of hooting and hollering and aggressive bearhugging– while everybody else is sharing a moment of silence.
So let us caution you that it is, perhaps, in your best interest that we do not hear more about your sordid tales of unbridled joy on your birthday. If you want to see any piece of the inheritance, you better hope that, in the years to come, as you mature, we don’t hear through the grapevine about how you got sloshed on cheap margaritas and had your orifices sucked/blown/vacuumed.
It saddens me very much that I have to write this letter to you, but after what we’ve heard from your kindergarten teacher, we feel that we have no other options except to have a written condemnation of your actions, as that’s how disappointed in you we are, of your expressions of happiness on this day. If you don’t understand what some of the bigger words mean, you will later. And we hope you feel even worse for it.
Much love, and again, happy birthday,
Mom and Dad