On the subject of my lamentable journey through puberty, and how it must have driven you to distraction.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I am writing to formally apologize, for all the moments (weeks? years?) of pain and misery that I might have inadvertently caused you, throughout my formative years.
I apologize, for my “taste” in clothing. I realize now that my shorts were too short, my pants sat too low on my hips and I probably didn’t need to bare my midriff quite so diligently.
And yes, Dad, I was trying to be cool, when I refused to zipper my jacket in the dead of winter. Rest assured, I have outgrown all these practices.
I apologize, for my attempts to convince myself – and our entire town – that I was an only child. I am no longer embarrassed by my younger brothers and sisters.
And I’m not sure if you have noticed, but I have given up the habit of slinking along, twenty paces behind, when we are out as a family. I am willing, nay, happy to be associated with all of you.