In the car this evening the children were composing letters to the president....out loud.
You are not my Daddy. Stop telling everyone what to do. And tell your wife to not let you eat so many hamburgers.
PS You know they're GMO, right?
Please stop telling everyone what to drive. And stop messing with gas prices. By the time I'm grown up I'll only be able to afford to drive a mouse-sized car.
And tell your wife to stop telling everyone what to eat.
Think I should let them mail these?