Amy Lawson, Come on Down!

Dear Amy,

Holly and I are busy putting together the prize packages for the contest that you dropped out of after three weeks. By "Holly and I," I mean "Holly," since I already mailed her my part of it; when it gets to her is up to the post office gods.

But back to the quitting. We understand. That's ok. Really it is. We've quit lots of stuff before, too. Mostly crafts. But also lots of weight loss-related things. For instance, weight loss. I think it's safe to say that we've both been lifestyle-changing (that's the PC way to say "dieting" nowadays, right?) most of our adult lives. Honestly, the only reason I didn't quit the contest is because Holly makes my kids really cool cakes on their birthdays and occasionally mails me shoes. If I had quit, the shoe pipeline would have likely dried up. (P.S. Holly, when are you going to give me those black shoes I borrowed in December? And the red ones. I want those, too. The End.)

We were pretty excited when so many people joined our contest and even more excited to see how many of them actually stayed with it the whole time. (Did you know that your sister stayed with it the whole time? Yeah, she's really great.) And Holly and I have been grateful the whole time that you gave us a mention/entire post on your blog which is what ultimately sent a large portion of those people to our blog. After that post, our readership increased sizeably, and our hits started coming more from Google Reader and less from people searching for this picture. I am not kidding. For most of this blog's existence, the majority of the people that have looked at it were really looking for Igor. And anytime we see a hit from the UK or northern Europe, we can pretty much guarantee they want Igor, not us. I can't explain it, and I'm not sure I want to, but that's how it was. Until you.

So we want to thank you. Since you did quit the contest, we can't technically send you a prize, but I hope no one will mind if we send you a present. It's not much, and there wasn't even close to a dozen dollars spent on it, but it's something I think you'll like. I originally bought for my son, but once I realized the treasure that it truly is, I quickly distracted him and stashed it away for me to keep, only occasionally bringing it out to show people on webcam so they can see the sheer awesomeness of it.

Here, I'll give you a hint:
And some clues:

• My son is obsessed with the movie Cars.
• I bought him a 10-pack of Cars cars at an Egyptian toy store for 35 LE (Egyptian pounds; that's about $6.29).
• Copyright laws in Egypt means nothing.
• Egyptians frequently manufacture and sell things that are made to look like licensed products but clearly are not.
• Many Egyptians don't speak English.
• Best I can tell, most of these companies that both make these products and don't speak English, have some sort of aversion to hiring native English speakers to, you know, proofread.
• Often, hilarity ensues.
• Best. children's. toy. ever.
  

Why am I telling you all of this, you ask? Because, if you want this really great truck (I promise you; you're going to want to hide it from your child lest he break it, uh--in the interest of full disclosure--more than my son already has)(but he just broke of one of the high-quality ladders on the side; the text is still fully in tact), and I think you do, we need you to please e-mail us your address to myweightisasecret at g-to-the-mizz-ail dot com, and I will send it on its way to live at your house.

Why didn't I just e-mail you privately, you ask? Because it's my day to post, and I can't think of anything to write about. Simple as that.

Never change except for the better (what? you mean I'm not signing your yearbook?),
Sara and Holly

P.S. I have a picture of the side, too, but thought I'd let you decide whether or not you want to see it before it arrives at your house. If so, lemme know, and I'll post it. If you want it to be a surprise, I'll wait until you have it before sharing with the class.