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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If life gives you melons, you may be dyslexic.