Dear Dominic,
Please go outside, even if it is just on the porch. Or open your window. You need fresh air.
Your room is hot and smells like a hamster cage.
You haven’t worn a shirt in days.
Your posture is so awful that you look like a question mark.
You eat like a wild animal — a wild animal who only eats Pop-Tarts.
What’s worse is that you want to eat like this on my new desk: the kitchen table.
If this is what you’ve become in just a couple of weeks into confinement, I shudder to think what you will look like in a couple of months.
Please don’t turn feral.
I love you,
Mama
* Thanks, Nirvana.
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