To Whom It May Concern,

Hello, sir or madam. I believe you have my phone. I’m sure you’ve realized by now that you’ve made a big mistake. See, when I turned my back on my shopping cart so that I could peel a fit-throwing four-year-old off of a display of little purses with those stupid mermaid sequins, you saw an opportunity.

You recognized a desperate and distracted mom regretting her decision to shop with three children in tow. You probably figured I wouldn’t realize what was missing until after my children were finally asleep that night, long after their third and fourth trips to the kitchen to quench their aching thirst.

You knew, even then, I would probably assume I had lost it myself. You were right. I also spent three hours looking for it and four hours trying think of how to tell my husband in a way that would keep him from looking at me like the hot mess that I am.

So, as the proud new owner of whatever model of iPhone came out around four years ago, let me tell you a little about the treasure you’ve acquired.

You’ve probably noticed the screen is cracked in several places. Sorry about that. I dropped it from the top row of the bleachers while trying to take a video we’d never watch of my kid doing the bean bag toss at his field day in May. He refused to do any running or jumping events, but since he’s a bean bag prodigy, you may want to save that footage for its future value.

I’m sure you’ve also noticed I don’t have a passcode or fingerprint to get it unlocked. You see, I’m just not all that worried about privacy.

If you decide to browse my photos, you’ll be disappointed that it’s mostly memes, before photos with no afters, and overly-zoomed selfies my seven-year-old has taken.

If you find my calendar, I’m sure the color-coded rainbow will make you think I’m organized. Most people would do something like “purple for work” and “red for vacation” and “blue for kids activities”. Not me. I like to rate my disinterest in an activity as soon as I enter it into my calendar. Drinks with friends? Green. Dentist? Red. It’s so nice to be able to predict my attitude for the entire month at a glance.

You’ll notice a lot of apps related to my kids’ classrooms. What does it say about me that I check their classroom updates and grades, but never check their backpacks? I like to think I’m teaching them some responsibility. Oh, you’ll miss recess because you didn’t get your homework out of your bag last night? Good thing they don’t have that bean bag toss game out there!

Speaking of exercise, I know what you’re thinking. Constantly redoing the first two days of the Couch to 5K program isn’t really how it’s designed. If I were that concerned with getting in shape, my most recent snacks on MyFitness Pal wouldn’t be vodka and a fun size snickers.

If you log into any of my shopping apps, just don’t judge me by my order history. Bags of dog food are really hard to carry out of real stores, especially when you have three kids begging to try the claw machine. Also, I swear I’m going to eventually open that kettle ball I bought a couple months ago. Please refer back to the before photos for proof that sometimes I’m well intentioned.

If you could leave my Pinterest app alone, that would be super. If you happen to search for one frickin crock pot recipe, that’s all I have to look at for the next six months. Don’t screw up the algorithm. It’s currently a perfect balance of places I’ll never go and tattoos I’ll never get.

If you find my cycle-tracking app, don’t be starting any rumors. It’s not used to gauge fertility. There will be no more honey badgers coming out of this mama’s den. Honestly, I just use it because I’m a grown-ass 30-year-old woman whose period still sneaks up on her every frickin time.

This is my last tidbit of information for you. There are a ton of great online sales ending today, so feel free to browse through my emails and take advantage of all the coupon codes. Just don’t expect any of my credit cards to do you any good. They’re maxed out.

Well, I’m off to find a new phone. I think maybe a flip-phone would simplify my life. If nothing else, I’ll get to return to the days of truly angry hang-ups. It just feels good to slam one of those babies shut.