Dear Baby,

Dear Baby,

I know you're not born, and wont be for like ten years at least,
But, I want to apologise for all the things I'll do to you.
Like how you'll have a weird name (right now you're facing Emery Spencer, or Charlie Sean, for a girl.)
Like how you wont wear shoes until you're learning to walk because I'm not buying shoes you'll grow out of in a week,
Or like how I'll probably be useless, and forget everything you need.

But saying that, you'll have the coolest three aunties a kid could ask for.
All three insane, all three alot weird, but all three amazing people who had better love you...

Or else.

So you know, despite the name, the lack of shoes, and how embarrassing I will undoubtedly be. You should turn out okay.