A Letter From A Redneck Mother To Her Son

    Dear Son,

    I'm writing this slow 'cause I know you
can't read fast.  We don't live where we did when you left.  Your dad read in
the paper that most accidents happen within twenty miles of home, so we moved. Won't be
able to send you the address as the last Arkansas family that lived here took the numbers
with them for their house, so they wouldn't have to change their address.

    This place has a washing machine. 
The first day I put four shirts in it, pulled the chain and haven't seen 'em since.

    It only rained twice this week, three
days the first time and four days the second time.

    The coat you wanted me to send to you,
Aunt Sue said it would be a little too heavy to send in the mail with them heavy buttons,
so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.

    We got a bill from the funeral home, and
it said if we didn't make the final payment on Grandma's funderal bill, up she comes.

    About your sister, she had a baby this
morning.  I haven't found out whether if it is a boy or a girl so don't know if you
are an Aunt or Uncle.

    Your Uncle John fell in the whiskey
vat.  Some men tried to get him out, but he fought them off playfully, so he
drowned.  We cremated him and he burned for three days.

    Three of your friends went off the
bridge in a pickup.  One was driving and the other two were in the back.  The
driver got out.  He rolled down the window and swam to safery.  The other 2
drowned.  They couldn't get the tail gate down.

    Not much more news this time. 
Nothing much happened.  If you don't get this letter, please let me know and I will
send another one.

Love, Ma

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