Dear Mr. Wilson*,

Hello. Yes, I know it's only been a one hour since I saw you last, but here we are. Or here I am, rather, writing you a letter. Because, Tom**, it's time we break up.

No, no, no! I'm not going to start seeing another pharmacist! I'm hoping to stop filling prescriptions altogether. At least for a month.

Tom, you and I have been seeing a lot of each other recently. Too much. It's getting inappropriate. I saw your wife the other day at the grocery store and she asked me how you were doing. Between the four rounds of pink eye (one of which involved two prescriptions), skin issues, sinus infections, and double ear infections, I have thoroughly had enough of you.

You hear of this "economic recession" and you wonder what the honk everyone is talking about. That, sir, is because I have been single handedly keeping your business afloat. I am sorry to tell you this, but one of these days, you are going to have to pay for your mortgage with something other than my kids' illnesses.

Tom, this is hopefully goodbye for a long time. I won't miss you. But my kids will miss the balloons and 25 cent cokes***.

Love ya!
Ems

*Yes, I know his name.
**Yes, I know his first name.
***True story: Once we were at the pharmacist and Cason got a coke. I didn't have a quarter to pay with so the lady said, "Oh, that's ok...you can just pay for it the next time we see you." I'm not sure whether I was more bothered about her wanting me to pay for the 25 cent coke next time or that she knew there would be a next time. Or that Cason knew right where to go to get his coke.