Dearest Redneck Son

I'm writing this slow because I know you can't read fast.
We don't live where we did when you left home. Your Dad read in the newspaper
that most accidents happen within 20 miles of your home, so we moved.
I won't be able to send you the address because the last family that lived
here took the house numbers when they moved so they wouldn't have to change
their address.
This place even has a washing machine. I'm not sure it works so well though.
Last week I put a load of clothes in and pulled the chain. We haven't seen them
since. I hope they come back soon, like I told your dad we shouldn't have to
wear the same clothes more than a week.
About that coat you wanted me to send; your Uncle Billy Bob said it would be
too heavy to send in the mail with the buttons on, so we cut them off and put
them in the pockets.
Bubba locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were really worried because it
took him two hours to get me and your father out.
Your sister had a baby this morning, but I haven't found out what it is yet,
so I don't know if you are an aunt or uncle.
Uncle Bobby Ray fell into a whisky vat last week. Some men tried to pull him
out, but he fought them off and drowned. We had him cremated. He burned for
three days.
Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pickup truck. Butch was driving.
He rolled down the window and swam to safety. The other two were in the back.
They drowned because they couldn't get the tailgate down.
There isn't much more news at this time. Nothing much out of the normal has
happened.
Your Favorite Aunt