...well, then you must die.
Dear HP/Hewlett Packard -
Why, oh why, must you continue to manufacture and sell pieces of crap? Our first mistake was purchasing a desktop computer from you several years ago. Apparently under the influence of drugs, we decided at a later date to purchase one of your printers. After the long and painful and expensive death of my then-top-of-the-line photo printer I decided to give you another chance a few months ago when I made the decision to purchase the HP Photosmart C5200 All-In-One printer/scanner/copier. It received rave reviews by several personal contacts, and when one of them showed me the quality of the color photos it printed out, I was sold. We purchased our first C5200 from a major electronics store - it worked great for 2 days, and suddenly, out of nowhere, drivers started disappearing and the printer ceased to be. Several phone calls to your help desk later, we learned that it was a printer - not computer - issue, and you offered to send us a new printer in its place, and all we would have to do is return the old one...at your cost. Nice touch. We received the new printer in record time, installed it, and we were pleased to see that all was well. For about a week. Then drivers started disappearing again. Your techs this time around were not as helpful and owned up to the fact that this is an ongoing issue with this particular printer model. Four uninstalls/reinstalls later...this piece of junk still doesn't work. I can't scan. I can't print. I can't help but hate you.
I'm changing your name from Hewlett Packard to Hopeless Plastic. Or Happily Purposeless. Or third-rate, sub-par, devices-don't-work-longer-than-the-life-expectancy-of-the-common-housefly pieces of crap.
And since I'm on a roll...
Dear Crayola -
Look. You obviously have smart people working for you. You were, after all, able to make crayons and markers (or barkers, as my little one calls them) washable - a word that all moms everywhere yearn to see on the packages of anything that could potentially ruin/stain anything in the house. But come on - can't you do something to make your crayons unbreakable? Your Tadoodles, while a cute idea - are just useless pieces of plastic that you somehow feel justified to sell for close to $10. The pear-shape coloring utensils are, in fact, a good idea - but it would appear that most toddlers find it easier to grab them upside down, which defeats the purpose of why they're made the way they are. Okay - no big deal. Maybe your engineering peeps were having a bad day. Here comes the unforgiveable part,
though. Part of the appeal of the Tadoodles crayon is that it isn't supposed to break. Unless, of course, your child turns it upside down (which is necessary to be able to color with the thing), and upon doing so, notices that the crayon is anything but secure in the pear-shaped holder as it falls to the floor, picks it up, and breaks it in half. Also? The Tadoodles markers? They're only "100% washable" if you hover over your child with a damp paper towel while he's using them. My son's adorable once-tan-now-pink lion outfit can attest to that. I hate that what started out as a box of 16 fat crayons for little hands has turned into a Rubbermaid container of 9000 colorful wax bits. I love you, Crayola. I still get tingly when I open up a brand new box of 96 crayons. I find coloring with your products incredibly cathartic. In fact, my only reason for having one child and getting pregnant with another one so soon was so that I could continue to purchase your products and not get funny looks from the cashiers in Target. So do me - and moms everywhere - a favor, would you? Make your crayons indestructable. If a nuclear bomb were to go off tomorrow, I'd appreciate it if the crayons were still standing.