Dear tonsils,

You must be enjoying this. Most of the time, I don’t even know you guys are there, I don’t pay you any attention. You’re just, you know, there, doing your thing, guarding the gates to the rest of my body, doing your job, keeping out the riff raff.

Then once in a while, you get fed up and need to make your presence felt. But do you really need to swell up to twice your size to be heard? Do you really need to grow specks of pus all over yourselves, putting me at risk of strep throat, just to remind me that you’re there? Do you really need to set me back $40 in doctor’s fees for that?

I’m not angry, really. It’s actually nice to have the day off work, even if I spend most of it trying to sleep over the sound of the phone ringing and the sms beeping. It’s just, why do you have to make it so painful? If I’m not wincing from swallowing the gross-tasting Campbell’s Minestrone Soup-in-a-can, then I’m walking around in a drugged up stupor not even properly able to comprehend why Grisam is looking extra-serious in the CSI episode I’m watching. Next time you feel under-appreciated, couldn’t you just, like, wave or something? Or just get something stuck between you guys so that I need to cough for awhile and then be thankful that you’re around to protect me. No? Aw, come on…

Anyway, in order to avoid any future misunderstandings, let’s clear the air once and for all. I appreciate you. I would never get rid of you, never. You’re my first line of defence and I will continue to invest in you until the day I die. If it helps, from now on, I promise to drink more lemon-honey-barley drink from the Chinese herbal medicine shop and put less chilli sauce on my Boon Tong Kee chicken rice. Anything else you need from me, I’m there. I hope that we can agree to deal with any future differences in a more amicable and less painful manner than the current situation permits.

Yours Sincerely,
burgersandurians