Blogagaard Receives Letter from David Sedaris

Dear Bloggykins,

I know, I know. It's been too long since we've talked. I've been busy, you know. Making money with my writing and all that. Now, don't pout. I've been reading your blog and oh, the fun Hugh and I have reading it aloud to each other during our morning fondue parties! I know you told me never to mention Hugh's name to you, but I just had to. He still asks about you, just wishes you absolutely the best. Why couldn't we all have gotten along in that rented villa in outside of Brussels? Sigh.

I miss you, too. Those few months in your basement studio apartment still stay with me. When I lay down at night, nuzzling into Hugh's chest, I can't help but see flashes of your portly, thick chested body prancing before my eyes. Remember the pillow fights? How we cried when we heard Hunter S. Thompson had blown his head off? The walks to Dunn Brothers, how we teased all the nervous fat girls for shyly ordering skim milk with their large chai teas? The all-night talks, drinking champagne as we argued about who had the blondest hair, the wittiest one liners?

You kept me honest, Bloggykins. I'll give you that.

Outside, the church bells are tolling. Hugh will be home soon, and dusk will fall over France. We'll sit quietly, have our tea and crepes with strawberry sauce. Still, something will be missing, and that something is you.

Hearts and Kisses,

Your Munchkin Toes