Dear Self, ca. 1990-something,

I know that between dying your hair black, smoking as many Camel Lights as you can, and living off toast and yogurt is taking up a lot of your time right now, but seriously, I have something to tell you.

Someday, you are going to be in a Kohl’s department store (I know, I know, you have no idea what that is, but it will be part of that whole Other Side of Stillwater development that is coming, and you will sound like an old fogey when you say "I remember when this was all a field! ANyway. Kohl’s is a store your mom would love right now, and trust me, you’ll end up there, too) looking at BABY CLOTHES, desperately trying to find a long-sleeved, plain, not white onesie that doesn’t say anything like "Poops, I did it Again!" and you will have — get this — a REAL LIVE BABY strapped to your chest. And not just someone you’re babysitting for, or anythiing, it will be YOURS. And that baby is going to spit out her pacifier, look straight at you, and giggle for the first time unprovoked by tickling or fart noises, and you will freeze, absolutely FREEZE in your tracks, and try to think of what caused the giggle.

Decoding The Cause will then make you realize, oh my god, you’re one of Those People, talking in BABY TALK to your baby in PUBLIC. IN PUBLIC! And you will be the fool mom taking two steps, stopping, looking down at this 4-months-old-that-day baby and saying "Oh! HIII BABY!" with your eyes all wide and your voice, seriously, your VOICE, in a high pitch. Hand to god. And you will weave among the racks doing that for a good five minutes, being rewarded with a giggle at every lurching stop, and you won’t give one rat’s ass what other people are thinking of you, because having your baby giggle, mostly unprovoked, in public, in a FUCKING KOHL’S, will be the best thing that has happened to you all week. Seriously.

I just wanted to let you know that. Oh, and also? Growing out that black dye will be SUCH a pain in the ass, and smokes will cost like 5 bucks a pack in a few years, in THE STATES even, so you should really just quit now. Then you’d have more money for politically charged bumper stickers.

Love, (Oh, get over yourself and quit rolling your eyes at all the LOVE shit),
Gretchen