I'm at a loss for a title

To Whom It May Concern:

You know who you are. But do you know what you're missing? Because what you're missing is a little boy who knows his alphabet. Every damn letter, even the "next time won't you sing with me?" part. You're missing a little boy who can count to 20. (Well, sometimes.)

You're missing out on the best thing in the world.

I've been told that he talks on the level of a 3-year-old, even though he's only 2. He talks fast, too. (Of course, you've met me, so that part shouldn't surprise you.) He can name every character in the movie Cars. He knows football better than I do. He's an avid Boise State fan. He can tell the difference between a Ford Focus and a Chevy Cavalier. (He didn't get that from me, either.)

You're missing bedtime stories and lullabies, and the chance to hear "That's a way good song, Mom!" You're missing milk and cookies for dinner, velcro shoes, and clip-on ties. You're missing bowling, and swimming, and more bowling. You haven't seen him set up a bowling alley in the family room with his stuffed animals as pins.

You missed the cutest Dalmatian puppy for Halloween. That night also happened to be the first time he peed in the toilet; you missed that, too. You missed two wonderful birthdays with horribly decorated cakes (so not my forte), and a third Christmas is about to be missed. He has asked every day for the past 10 days "Is it Christmas today?" Yeah, Christmas is gonna be a big deal this year. (You also missed the chance to hear him pronounce the word "truck" like the f-bomb...in church.)

You're missing the best smile, the best hugs, and the most amazing little kisses. Someday he won't be 2-and-a-half anymore, and I'll miss those things, too. But at least I'll have the memory of them.

I don't hate you; I've never hated you. But I thought you should know what exactly it is that you're missing.

Sincerely,
Me

PS: When you chose to miss out on all of the above, you also chose to miss out on me. And I think I'm pretty fabulous, too.