Dear Future Son-in-Law,
While you and I agree in private that Katie is too good for you, I want you to know that I see things for what they are.
You may think it is cute that Katie leaves clothes everywhere or makes a mess when she cooks.
You will probably ignore Matthew's drunken ramblings at the bachelor party about what a slob his sister is, but remember he bunked with her first when we lived in an apartment.
People will clean up after you on the honeymoon, enjoy that.
In case, God forbid, you too encounter a chicken bone on the carpet while vacuuming like I did in her room tonight (we haven't eaten chicken for weeks and weeks, and she just cleaned her room this morning so I would take her clothes shopping again), I nominate you for sainthood now. All you need is a miracle and you're in.
Love,
Mom
P.S. I just read this to Kate who recalls her friend showing up at noon with a Bojangles chicken breast in her hand, but I see no reason not to post this just because we know where the bone originated. My loss is your gain, dude. I recommend a cleaning service.