Eviction Notice

Dear Mr. Robot Doob Blatter:

You are hereby served this eviction notice from your place of residence, My belly (known further as my body, my belly, freakishly large lady). You have one week in which to comply with all the terms of this letter.

The reasons for your eviction are several and conclusive:
1. You have outgrown the quarters of my body, rendering all clothing options for me null and void. I am left today wearing a maternity shirt in a shade of purple that causes children of all ages to spontaneously begin singing, "I love you, you love me.." and the "clean-up song" and yelling, "Barney!!! Barney!! It's really you." And because I am a nice person I say, "Aw, shucks, guhu-hu. I love you too. Let's all share and be kind." Given my current employment as a preschool teacher, you can see how this would be distracting, to say the least.

Also, the water retention you are causing in my feet and face contains enough moisture to provide for a small-to-mid-sized Ethiopian village. This has caused a syndrome I have dubbed Shrek feet, limiting my shoe options to black $3 flip-flops. And while I do love flip-flops, they are most inappropriate for church. Also, my Shrek legs and feet, or stumps as I have heard them whispered about, cannot be covered for church as I only have knee-length skirts in above-mentioned outgrown wardrobe.

2. Your parties, while not loud, have elicited many complaints. Your neighbors, Mr. Kik McRibs, Mrs. Tinee Bladder (note that is bladder..not Blatter, although Ms. Blatter is none too happy either), and Mr. Gethoff MaPelvis have all issued several complaints regarding your kung-fu battle parties held at all hours of the day and night.

3. The hormones coursing through my body as a result of housing you have reached a boiling point. Several times a day I want to reach out and punch innocent strangers in the face. For no reason. And I used to do tae-bo, so it would be a fairly decent punch to the face (note to neighbors and friends...it may be wise to avoid the above dwelling, my body, for the interim days, as there is a good chance I will punch you in the face). I am a ticking time bomb of fury.

3. Lastly, and most importantly, it is just time for you to leave. It is time for me to cradle your tiny bum in my hands. It is time for me to kiss you a bazillion times a day. It is time for you to pee on me and everyone to laugh at how darling it is. It is time for me to feed you and rock you into a state of complete nirvana. Trust me, it's better out here. It's just time for you to be HOME.

Please note, Mr. Doob, if you have not rendered complete evacuation of the premises in one week from today, more drastic measures will be taken. Specifically, high doses of pitocin will be directed at said dwelling until you are forced to be expelled. You have until 7:30 a.m. Monday the 18 of May. Otherwise I will take matters into my own hands...er...wrist, as that is where they will stick the needle.
Sincerely,
Your landlord/momma; who cannot wait to wrap you up in a tiny baby-blanket papoose and examine for hours- and kiss endlessly- your tiny hands, feet, and face.

p.s. i realize it has been a while since I posted on this here blog. I will post about the goings on of the last 3 months very soon. Or I will punch you in the face; either way, you are guaranteed a pretty good time.