This morning, as my younger sister got ready to leave the house, she casually mentioned to my half-asleep being that I had a letter with the House of Commons stamp on it. As soon as I heard this, I was half-asleep no more. Practically falling down the stairs, I grabbed the letter off the table, and studied it closely. It had my name and address on it, and everything seemed legit, but…
“Is this one of your pranks?” I demanded of my sister.
“Whaaaaat?” she asked, surprised. “Do you think I have the time or money to buy a nice envelope and put a fancy stamp on it just for a prank? Pur-lease.”
I told her it looked like her writing (The name and address were hand-written, and it did look like she had written it) and turned away to study the envelope a bit more. In my head, I ran through all the
small crimes I could have committed things I could have done to get a letter like this.
I opened the envelope, and was surprised to see that it was a birthday letter from my MP. She’d signed the letter by hand, which was pretty nice of her. The letter congratulated me on turning 18 (it’s not for a couple of days, but still), and reminded me that I can now vote. I felt that the letter didn’t pressure me to vote for anyone in particular, which was nice, because I hate stuff that tries to change my way of thinking by putting pressure on me, if you see what I mean.
The birthday letter was a nice gesture from my MP, and reminded me that I’ll be an actual adult in a few days. Scary!