Here are the spatulas you wanted.
I really hate the gift that I am giving to you right now, and in front of everyone at your bridal shower. If things are going as planned, I am wearing an ill-fitting dress, sitting with my friends, who are also wearing dresses, and we are laughing and talking about how we never wear dresses except on occasions such as these, and we are eating pretty food that looks too pretty to eat, and drinking all of your sister's liquor, and having a whale of a time while you are opening your gifts, none of which, except mine, I hope, are spatulas.
I feel terrible about these spatulas. But why did you register for spatulas? And why did you have 10 showers and invite me to the 11th when all that was left on your four registries were spatulas? It's kind of your fault, Debbie, about the spatulas. You could have registered for another set of sheets or towels or a whimiscal cookie jar even. But you didn't. So you really fucked things up. I have never given a dumber gift than these two spatulas. I mean, I have given people gravy boats and rice cookers and felt pretty good about it, but I don't feel good about these spatulas. I don't care that they're really huge and unforgivably expensive, as they are from Williams Sonoma. That doesn't make it right. But nonetheless, if I look at you and I look at me and our two positions in this scenario, I think that you are the one who's to blame.
But anyway, congratulations, and thank you for inviting me to your shower. I'm sorry about the spatulas. But just to reiterate, it is entirely your fault and not mine that I am giving you spatulas.
You'll see that I've also included a gift card to Best Buy, which I hope you will use to purchase something better than spatulas, like batteries, or a very small flashlight.
Love (your friend of 18 years who would have happily given you something better than spatulas if you had registerred properly),
Jules
