We have two letters today, both from Dot. The first was actually written on July 23, which I confess I didn’t see when doing yesterday’s entry.

The first two pages of this bonus letter describe the trials of her new babysitting job with Chris and Eric. Fussy infant and cranky toddler add up to a trying afternoon. The boys demand her attention simultaneously and constantly. It would have been enough to make most young women swear off babysitting for life – and perhaps even motherhood. You can read Dot’s frustration, but as always, she’s in good humor. In fact, she’s downright amusing.

She advises Dart that she has inventory at Franklin Simons Wednesday night, possibly into the early morning hours. She trusts he will forgive her if she’s unable to write him that day.

Then she teases him a bit about his uncharacteristic long run of healthiness. Not even a toothache to report. Considering his recent history at Great Lakes Naval Hospital, it is rather surprising. Maybe the fault was in the hospital itself.

She tells Dart she has no new way to say that she loves him other than the down-to-earth “I love you.” Then she finds a new way to say it. “It’s surprising the change you’ve made in me. You’re on my mind all the time and whenever I start to do anything rather haphazardly, I think now, how would Dart expect it to be done, and I do it the right way.”

She wraps up this letter with “Here I am on page 4 without a thing to say. Wasting no time in saying it, I’ll close now.”

The first few paragraphs of Dot’s letter of the 24th are comments on Dart’s recent letters:  She’s happy he survived the big explosion because she’d rather get him back in one piece; She cannot comprehend how he can sit through three hours of math class every day when one hour nearly killed her; She is looking forward to payday, but unlike him, she has more to spend it on than Coke and soap – neither the Navy nor Franklin Simons provides her with a wardrobe.

She expresses how challenging it is to comment on his letters when they take so long to reach her. She can’t say she hopes his headache is better, because she assumes it isn’t lingering after five days. She can say “I’m sorry you had it and I hope you never have another one.”

She confesses to sharing his penchant for daydreaming at night. Sometimes her thoughts about their time together are so compelling that she fights sleep just to extend the pleasure of thinking about him.

Tonight she is caring for the adorable Chucky and Linda Pecsok. She’s truly smitten with these charming, well-behaved children.  She says the family is her ideal – lovely children, kind parents and a harmonious home. She says it gets her to thinking that they are the standard for what she would like someday. She regrets that Dart was not able to meet them when he was in Greenwich.

She’s sorry to hear that Dart is lonesome because it seems to make time pass so slowly. She admits to loneliness herself, but she says letters help alleviate that feeling. She’s confident he’ll be feeling better soon. (I’m sure he will, once Dot’s letters begin arriving at Treasure Island.)

She’s eager to receive the new photographs he’s sending. She loves him so much and having pictures to fawn over makes him seem closer.

She includes a lengthy “confession” about an upcoming date with someone she’s known her whole life who is leaving soon for Washington, DC to work for the FBI. They won’t do anything special- just dinner and a movie, but  she wanted Dart to know. By the way, she adds, her friend is a girl she works with at FS.