Dear Sharon, Thomas, and/or Richie,
If you're reading this, chances are you've discovered the personal meth lab I've been running in our two-car garage for the past eight months. To be honest, I'm somewhat disappointed that you discovered this, but I also anticipated that this day would eventually come. Since the family has established that the garage is Dad's work area, I'm not sure why you stumbled upon the meth lab I have situated between our Kenmore washer/dryer and several boxes labeled "Memories." But I'm sure you had a justifiable reason for entering the garage without my permission.