Can't hurt, WILL help...

Dear Bebe,

Someday, you'll grow up and get married.

I hope that happens before I die because let's face it, I'm not exactly a spring chicken (if you decide to wait until you're my age to get married, the chances of me being present significantly decrease, which is why I won't be too opposed to you marrying at a younger age, as long as you're over 21, employed, and have lived with the dude for at least a year).

But I digress.

The reason I'm writing to you today is to offer some important advice for you to keep in mind when choosing your future husband; it's simple and direct, so here it is:

marry a man with a beach house.

I'm trying my best to get us out of New Jersey but right now, the future looks bleak in terms of escaping this drain-your-soul-and-bank-account state so the chances of your mom and dad ever buying a beach house is slim to none.

You see, kitten, here in NJ there are only two ways to own a beach house: luck strikes and you win the lotto (either literally or figuratively in terms of career compensation) or your parents (or in your case, your grandparents) bought a beach house back in the day when they were affordable.

Your mom and dad have no luck nor do they have parents who own beach houses, therefore you're probably never going to spend your summers luxuriating in the sun and sand at the Jersey Shore (or Cape Cod, or The Hamptons, Nantucket, Block Island, the Outer Banks, Virginia Beach... you get the picture).

But all hope is not lost; there is a way we can all enjoy our time in the sun.

There are plenty of people who own beach houses here in NJ; all you must do is find the son of one of those people and reel him in.

That's not too much to ask, is it?  I guarantee it will only enhance your love... and my life.

xx
Me

Ps. Your father is not a big fan of Long Island, so perhaps look into the LBI available bachelors first...