Dear Future Self,

Hi Self! I'm just writing you this letter to remind you that on this day, August 16, 2005, you made the decision to never have children of your own. Remember this day, and how everytime you turned your back, one of your nannying charges was either ravaging the kitchen cabinets or creating "cakes" in the bathroom sink out of soap bubbles and entire bottles of cake-decorating jimmies. And don't forget the washing of the dog. You know, that fat blind (although sweet) black lab that walks around the house bumping into things and slobbering all over you? Yeah, you were forced to wash her today because the girls thought it would be fun, and you promised yesterday that you would do it today, thinking they would forget or that you would be able to take them to Sesame Place so they wouldn't have time, and then it rained, and so you couldn't go to Sesame, and then the rain stopped and they wanted to wash her and you went out back (very reluctantly) and the hose was broken so you had to do it inside and there were clumps of wet black hair everywhere and water all over and the dog didn't actually get clean but just wet and you got totally soaked too and stayed annoyed for like an hour after the whole ordeal was over (and apparently are still annoyed about it at this moment, since you are blogging about it)! And in case you read this in several years and think, Eh, I'm married now, my biological clock is ticking, and it couldn't have been that bad, don't forget to go back and read your Nanny Diaries, because there is more to convince you there, and you didn't even end up keeping up with the updating of that entry like you were supposed to, so there was more. I'm telling us, from you to you, do not have children, okay? Just be a good teacher and send them home at the end of the day. I'm sure it will be fulfilling enough.

Love,
Yourself

P.S. Self, do you still write in the longest run-on sentences ever?