The Redneck’s Letter from Home

Dear Son,

I’m writing this letter slow because I know you can’t read fast.

We don’t live where we did when you left home. Your dad read in the newspaper that most accidents happen within 20 miles from home, so we moved.

I won’t be able to send you the address because the last family that lived here took the house numbers when they moved so that they wouldn’t have to change their address.

This place is really nice. It even has a washing machine. I’m not sure it works so well though. The first day I put four shirts in, pulled the chain, and I haven’t seen ’em since.

The weather isn’t bad here. It only rained twice last week; the first time for three days and the second time for four days.

About that coat you wanted me to send you, your Aunt said it would be too heavy to send in the mail with the buttons on, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.

Your brother locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were really worried because it took him two hours to get me and your father out.

Your sister had a baby this morning. We’re not sure if it’s a boy or a girl yet, so I don’t know if your an aunt or an uncle.

Your Uncle fell in a whiskey vat last week. Some men tried to pull him out, but he fought them off and drowned. We had him cremated and he burned for three days.

Your cousins went off a bridge in a pick-up truck. The one driving rolled down the window and swam to safety, but the other two were in back. They drowned because they couldn’t get the tailgate down.

There isn’t much more news at this time. Nothing much has happened.

Love, Mom

P.S. I was going to send you some money but the envelope was already sealed.