Dear Lieutenant Tan-
Mom brags about you quite a bit. She says you make her laugh, and we're grateful for that--she's had a rough year and she deserves to laugh. Mom gloats when she tells us that you have a pension and a retirement. (You are 62 years old, so its not really that remarkable.) Mom also gushes that you do your own laundry. (Again, you are 62 years old, but I guess we're glad you wear clean clothes.) You're probably a nice enough guy, but we need to talk.
Let's start at the beginning. You met Mom on Saturday, June 2. You were headed to some war-torn country, Mom was on her way to family vacation. The two of you exchanged e-mail addresses and became penpals. We thought it was cute. Within two weeks, you were speaking by satellite phone. We were happy that Mom had a new friend.
You sent Mom flowers on July 2 to celebrate your "anniversary." We were a little surprised and a little embarrassed, but we all carried on about how pretty the flowers were. Then, a little more than one month after your chance meeting on a flight, you started using the L word. We were horrified. You began soliciting bikini pics of our 52 year-old mom and she obliged. That's right--my sweet brothers took camera phone pics of their own bikini-clad mother in the backyard swimming pool to facilitate your sexts. They were mortified; I was livid.
On August 2, you sent Mom flowers for your second "anniversary." Not wanting to encourage bad behavior, we didn't say anything to Mom about the flowers. (Just so you know, baby's breath went out of style in 1996.) Shortly thereafter, Mom started bragging about the fact that you speak to each other on the phone "morning, noon and night." We thought that was insane. Recently, we heard that you've already discussed how you'll split the bills after you're married. We think that is bat-shit crazy. Yesterday, I looked at the phone bill and discovered that you called Mom TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FOUR times last month. Yesterday, you called Mom at 12:56, 12:56, 1:03, 1:11, 1:11, 1:17: 1:17, 1:18, and again at 1:18. That's right, you called NINE times in 22 minutes. Its time for an intervention.
You only met Mom once, so there are only two possible explanations for this kind of behavior:
1. You are a stalker; or
2. You are really a sixth-grade boy.
Either way, we're not very impressed with you. We've had enough crazy in our life and you seem to be compounding it. While you obviously know an awful lot about assault rifles, I'm afraid you don't have a clue about healthy relationships. (Neither does Mom, apparently, but this letter is to you.)
Anyway, I'm writing to tell you that this could be your big opportunity. You'll never be a hero in the Middle East, but you could easily become the hero in our family. All of us are desperate for reliability and stability and I'm asking you (begging you) to man up and take the lead here. Please. Since she's the only one we've got, maybe you could help Mom be a better parent? Maybe you could could avoid calling repeatedly? If that's too much to ask, then maybe you could just stop calling between 6-8 so that my brother can get through homework and dinner without becoming resentful about all your interruptions? Maybe you could tell Mom you're thinking about her but insist that she spend as much time with her kids as she spends on the phone with you? Maybe you could be a little less demanding and not call after 1 am so that Mom could sleep? (She'll have more energy to give you and us if she isn't sleep-deprived.) Maybe you could be the guy that shows my brothers how to treat women with respect? Maybe you could help us see that stable, healthy relationships do exist?
I know its a tall order, but a little self control would go a long way here, Lieutenant. Just stop making a fool of yourself. And please, please stop making a fool of our Mom. Shape up and we'll all be there in January when you come home. We'll even give you a hero's welcome.
Sincerely,
SEE (and her siblings)
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