A Mother's letter
 Dear Son,
               just a few lines to let you know that I'm still alive. I am writing this  slowly because I know you can't read fast.

You won't recognise the house anymore when you come home; we moved because your Dad read in the paper that most accidents happen within 20 miles of home. I won't be able to send you the address as the last family here took the numbers with them for their next house, so they wouldn't have to change their address.
There was a new style of washing machine in the house when we moved in, but it wasn't working too good. I put 14 shirts into it last week, pulled the chain and I haven't seen them since.
Auntie Maude has sent you a pair of socks she knitted, she put a third one in because she heard you have grown another foot since she last saw you.
The coat you wanted me to send you, your Aunt Sue said it would be a little too heavy to send in the mail with the heavy buttons, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.
Your sister Mary had a baby this morning. I haven't found out yet wether it's a boy or a girl. So I don't know if you're an aunt or an uncle.
Jimmy locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were really worried because it took him two hours to get me and your father out.

Your Aunt Harriet took a flight from New York to Los Angeles last week, said it was the first time she had ever arrived somewhere before she had left. Last time she thinks that might have happened, the doctors said it was Altzeimer's disease.

Your uncle Patrick drowned last week in a vat of Irish Whiskey at the Dublin Brewery. Some of his workmates tried to save him, but he fought them off bravely. They cremated him and it took 3 days to put the fire out.
Your father didn't have much to drink at Christmas. I put a bottle of castor oil in his pint of beer and it kept him going until New Year's day.
I went to the doctors on Thursday. Your father came with me. The doctor put  a small tube in my mouth and told me not to talk for 10 minutes. Your father offered to buy it from him.
It only rained twice this week. First for 3 days and then for 4 days.
On Monday the wind blew so hard that one of the chickens laid the same egg four times.
Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pickup truck. Butch was driving. He rolled down the window and swam to safety. Your other two friends were in the back. They drowned because they couldn't get the tailgate down.

We had a letter from the undertaker. He said if the last payment on your  grandmother's plot wasn't paid in 7 days, up she comes.
                                                       Your loving mother

PS. I was going to send you 5 Euro, but I have already sealed the envelope.