Dear Chasing Fireflies

Please stop sending me your catalog.

The time has come for us to part ways. And I am serious this time.

You must not of noticed that the economy has been a little, hmmm, how do I put this....yucky. And like I have discussed with you time and time again, Hubby is a financial planner and stock broker, this is a very stressful time for us. Life is a day to day struggle. I am wondering how we will even get through this rocky economic crisis. The difficult, difficult life I lead is being made even more traumatic with your appearance in my mailbox.

You can't just show up like that, unanounced!

If you keep beckoning me to you then I will have to give up my gym membership, give up my cleaning lady, give up having my nails did and hair done. And I run, so pedis are imperative to keeping my feet healthy and happy.

Do you really want to be responsible for a downgrade? I think not. And Hubby will be very unhappy if this happens as well. No housekeeper equals no sex. Remember?

You and your precious t-shirts and bustled dresses. The plethora of whimsical sleeping bags and tea sets. Unique clothing for both boys and girls that get constant compliments.

Clothes that make my beautiful children look even more like the Gap and little Ralph Lauren models than they already do.

It is downright sinful!

I hate to tell you this but this morning, you were thrown in the trash. THE TRASH! I didn't even open your pretty little catalog with the three darling little girls on the front wearing amazing petticoats and Christmas tees.

How dare you tempt me so by throwing holidaywear in my face. You know that I can't resist!

So, this is a sad good bye my pretty Chasing Fireflies catalog. Maybe one day, when we hit the lotto, or perhaps the market hits 14,000 again. Or when I am finally offered the Ford modeling contract I have been banking on all of these years. Then it is a possibility.......we may meet again.

Vio con dios. Au revoir. Auf Wiedersehen. So long.

I love you and always will,

Coco