Dear Mama,
It's the first day of May. It's already my birth month, Mama. I'll be turning 58 soon. Other than that, there's really nothing special about it, Mama. And I am not expecting anything.
I don't know what to say here. We just had our dinner, Mama. Ralph is resting before to work in while. Edgar is washing the dishes. Angel is also resting, she'll feed the cats in a while.
Anyway, that's all for now, Mama. I just wanted to say first of May.
I miss you, Mama.
I love you.
Daddy
