A Letter from an Irish Mother

Dear Son,

Just a few lines to let you know I'm still alive. I'm writing this slowly because I know you can't read fast. You wont know the house when you get home, 'cos we've moved.

Your Father has a lovely new job with 700 men under him - he cuts grass at the cemetery. There was a washing machine at the new house, but it's not working too good. Last week I put in 12 shirts, pulled the chain and I haven't seen them since.

Your sister, Colleen had a baby this morning, but I haven't found out if it's a boy or girl, so I don't know if you're an uncle or aunt.

Your Uncle Mick drowned last week in a vat of Whisky at the Dublin Distillery. His mates tried to save him, but he fought them off bravely. He was cremated and it took four days to put the fire out.

I saw the doctor last week and your Father went with me. Doc put a glass tube in my mouth and told me not to talk for five minuets. Your Father wanted to buy it from him. It only rained twice this week, first for four days the second for three days.

We had a letter from the undertaker. He said if the final payment on your Grandmother's grave wasn't paid in seven days - up she comes.

Your loving Mother XXXX

P.S. I was going to send you 10 Punt, but I'd already sealed the envelope.

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