You were so lovely when you were going to etiquette school.
You ate your soup without a sound, and played the piano quietly.
Your bows were deeper than the sea.
At the end of a meal, only the first few millimeters of the tips of your chopsticks would be dirty.
Whenever you ate fish, the bones left on your plate were as beautiful as a museum specimen.
You had fresh breath, your silky hair was neatly tied into braids, and your whole body had the subtle aroma of soap!
Why, oh why did you stop attending etiquette school?
Those remarks about etiquette being a "load of garbage" did come from me, but you always used to softly chide me by saying "Oh, I don't think so at all."
Lately I've taken to brushing my teeth three times a day, three minutes each time: breakfast, lunch, and dinner!
I've been saying "Good morning," "Good afternoon," "Good evening," and "Good night" in a bright cheery voice every day as well.
I completely stopped my habit of watching TV while eating dinner, and now whenever I come back inside from outdoors, I wash my hands.
Now, it may be rude of me to presume this, but I'm worried that you might have taken up with some sort of bad boy.
I wasn't trying to, but I accidentally overheard when you were talking with someone over the phone.
What does "We can go as far as doing B" mean? Is "B" some kind of kissing technique or something?
Sorry for my crazy imagination.
When you come home, I'd like to have a good talk with you.
Anyways, I'm off to work now.
-Love, Dad. (7:30 AM)