Redneck Letter

Dear son,
I’m writing this 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 of your home, so we moved. I won’t be able to send you the address because the last family that lived here took the house numbers when they moved so they wouldn’t have to change their address.
This place is really nice. It even has a washing machine. I’m not sure about it though. I put a load of clothes in and pulled the chain. We 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.
Auntie Maude has sent you a pair of socks she knit, she put a third one in because she heard you have grown another foot since she last saw you. About that coat you wanted me to send, your uncle Billy 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.
Jimmy locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were really worried because it took him two hours to get me and your father out.
Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pickup truck. Butch was driving. He rolled down the window and swam to safety. Your other two friends were in the back. They drowned because they couldn’t get the tailgate down.
There isn’t much more news at the time. Nothing much out of the normal has happened.
Your favorite aunt,
Mom