Dear Creator of the Universe,

You know that generally, I’m a huge fan of your work. Who can argue with Clive Owen? I think you really out did yourself there. And anyone who has ever beheld the Grand Canyon or a sunset over the Pacific knows you’re really good at what you do! Millions of women thank you daily for the divine spark of genius that is Manolo Blahnik. Personally, I think your work in the Champagne province of France speaks for itself.

We’ve been companions for a long time so I feel like I can say this and you can hear me. You know I’m your  biggest fan, but serioiusly? What the hell happened with you created the color Pink? We’re you drunk?

Oh, now don’t be that way!  Come on, you know there is a major design flaw with that color!  Every shade from plum, lilac, and lavender, to cerise, scarlet, and magenta–all brilliant. Reds to purples, no one does it better than you. But pink? Really? You had to go there? Barbie, Pepto, glam rock latex, bubble gum. The list goes on and on and on and, if anyone understands the concept of infinity it’s you. Admit it, pun intended, there are so many shades of wrong with the color pink.

I understand that like Pandora’s box, there’s no undoing what you create. Not really, not without extreme measures. But that color of yours has robbed me of my Friday, and I’d like that back. I know what hell looks like, Dear God, and let me tell you—it’s upholstered in  wall-to-wall Pink. I’m not sure why it became appropriate to adorn little girls in Pink, and I’m certainly not making you responsible for that. Well, not directly, anyhow. But it’s the state of my reality and Friday was spent making a baby blanket. A pink blanket. A very PINK BLANKET FROM HELL. Ahem.

So, what do you say? You think you could grant me a do-over on the day? It would go a long way to restoring my consumer confidence in your product.

And while you are at it, I could use a few more hours in the day.

Much love and admiration, especially for Clive Owen,

Yours,

Wendelynn.

PS. I hope we’re still on for Super Bowl Sunday. I know you’re really a Hockey fan, but I think it wouldn’t kill you to make an appearance. Metaphorically speaking.