The Irish are famous for their humour. But it shouldn't be forgotten that many Irish came from small and poor villages into bigger towns where they seemed a bit helpless.
Letter from Irish mother to Irish son
I'm writing this letter slow because I know you can't read fast.
We don't live where we did when you left home. Your dad read in the newspaper that most accidents happen within 20 miles from your home, so we moved.
I won't be able to send you the address because the last Irish family that lived here took the house numbers when they moved so that they wouldn't have to change their address.
This place is really nice. It even has a washing machine. I'm not sure it works so well though: last week I put a load in and pulled the chain and haven't seen them since.
The weather isn't bad here. It only rained twice last week; the first time for three days and the second time for four days.
About that coat you wanted me to send you, your Uncle Stanley said it would be too heavy to send in the mail with the buttons on, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.
John locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were really worried because it took him two hours to get me and your father out.
Your sister had a baby this morning; but I haven't found out what it is yet so I don't know if your an aunt or an uncle. The baby looks just like your brother....
Uncle Ted fell in a whiskey vat last week. Some men tried to pull him out, but he fought them off playfully and drowned. We had him cremated and he burned for three days.
Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pick-up truck. Ralph was driving. He rolled down the window and swam to safety. Your other two friends were in back. They drowned because they couldn't get the tailgate down.
There isn't much more news at this time. Nothing much has happened.
P.S. I was going to send you some money but the envelope was already sealed.