Advice Column

Dear (girl's first name),
My (adjective) daughter, who is only (number) years old, wants to wear a mini (noun) with a bare (noun). She claims all the other (plural noun) her age are (verb ending in ING) them. What to do?
Signed: An Anxious (noun)

Dear "Anxious,"
Take my advice and ground your daughter for (number) days.

Dear (same girl's first name),
My oldest (noun) is a/an (adjective) slob. As often as I try, I can never get him to wash his (noun), brush his (plural noun), or comb his (noun) before going to school. He also (adverb) refuses to take a bath or a/an (noun), clean up his (noun), or make up the very (noun) he sleeps in. How can I (verb)?
Signed: A/An (adjective) Mother

Dear "Mother,"
You better clean that (noun) up before he turns into a filthy ball of (noun).

Millie said...
Dear Stinkwafta,
My impregnable daughter, who is only 237 years old, wants to wear a mini Who from Whoville with a bare explosively tempting paper cut. She claims all the other Mentos her age are pie crust-ruining them. What to do?
Signed: An Anxious Hannah Montana lunchbox

Dear "Anxious,"
Take my advice and ground your daughter for 8 days.

Dear Stinkwafta,
My oldest caked Oreo on a car window is a difficult to control slob. As often as I try, I can never get him to wash his harpist, brush his hot drummers you'd become a groupie for, or comb his newborn baby smell before going to school. He also foot-stompingly refuses to take a bath or a Black Friday avoider, clean up his involuntary eyelid twitch, or make up the very hairball he sleeps in. How can I skulk?
Signed: A chocolate-smeared Mother

Dear "Mother,"
You better clean that soulless monkey-like Mafia goon up before he turns into a filthy ball of cranberry sauce drip.

Dave said...
Dear Sam,
My super daughter, who is only eighty-eight years old, wants to wear a mini timeline with a bare timecard. She claims all the other candies her age are contemplating them. What to do?
Signed: An Anxious Typewriter

Dear "Anxious,"
Take my advice and ground your daughter for eleventy days.

Dear Sam,
My oldest typeset is a soupy slob. As often as I try, I can never get him to wash his tornado, brush his carrots, or comb his torn-up tollbooth ticket before going to school. He also erroneously refuses to take a bath or a tuber, clean up his Trinidad-Tobago, or make up the very tire tube he sleeps in. How can I strain?
Signed: A supernatural Mother

Dear "Mother,"
You better clean that tired teleprompter up before he turns into a filthy ball of ticker tape.

Heffalump said...
Dear Gertrude,
My fluffy daughter, who is only 17 years old, wants to wear a mini partridge with a bare pear tree. She claims all the other drummers her age are singing them. What to do?
Signed: An Anxious turtledove

Dear "Anxious,"
Take my advice and ground your daughter for 3463 days.

Dear Gertrude,
My oldest French hen is a grotesque slob. As often as I try, I can never get him to wash his swan, brush his pipers, or comb his goose before going to school. He also vigorously refuses to take a bath or a golden ring, clean up his calling bird, or make up the very milk-maid he sleeps in. How can I give?
Signed: A mustard yellow Mother

Dear "Mother,"
You better clean that dancing lady up before he turns into a filthy ball of Leaping Lord.