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60dcbede50104ac2666063d9bd3d3ceaI found the story below in my files yesterday.

I first came across it when Michaela was about 15 or 16 years old and kept it as a reminder to me, not to sweat the small stuff.

I wasn’t always successful, so I had to continually tell myself there are worse things than a bad report card, purple hair, or a messy bedroom.

I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do, especially if you’re the parent of a teenager!

A mother passing by her son’s bedroom was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then she saw an envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow that was addressed to ‘mom.’

With the worst premonition she opened the envelope with trembling hands and read the letter.

Dear mom:

It is with great regret and sorrow that I’m writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with you.

I have been finding real passion with Stacy since I met her last month and she is so nice. But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercings, tattoos, tight motorcycle clothes and the fact that she is much older than I am. But it’s not only the passion…mom she’s pregnant.

Stacy said that we will be very happy.

She owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children. Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn’t really hurt anyone. We’ll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people that live nearby for crack and ecstasy. In the meantime we will pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better. She deserves it. Don’t worry mom. I’m 15 and I know how to take care of myself.

Someday I’m sure that we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren.

Love, Your Son John

PS. mom, none of the above is true. I’m over at Tommy’s house. I just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than my report card in my center desk drawer.

I love you. Call me when it’s safe to come home.

moral of story: It could always be worse