When I was a kid, my mother liked to say that I had a “flair for the dramatic.” Just ask her about the My Little Pony sewing machine she promised — I mean crossed her heart and hoped to die promised — that I could have when I turned six. (I’m still waiting.)

If only my parents had sent my temper-tantrum-throwing little bratty self to time-out armed with pencil and paper! Then we might have precious mementos like this one, written by the youngest daughter of our anonymous submitter from Pennsylvania. After being sent to her room for bad behavior, darling daughter — “a chronic notewriter” — slipped this under the door for her parents to discover.

(The crossed-out “Love” is what kills me.) And of course, it’s not just little girls who resort to such melodrama.

As Sara in Phoenix explains, ”My husband and I were outside one evening, deaf to the ‘screams’ of my 9-year-old son, Eliot. Apparently, he was in his room and bumped his fish tank, causing a small amount of water to slosh out, and he panicked. When we came back inside, we found the above note shoved under our bedroom door. Upon examination of said fish tank, we could find zero evidence of leak-springing…but then, we were also laughing pretty hard at the indignant note — especially its closing and postscript.”

Adds Sara: “P.S. Bob is fine.”

related: The joys of motherhood

“My mother-in-law is a devout Catholic,” our submitter says, “but my husband and sister-in-law do not hold the same beliefs” — much to the chagrin of their ever-guilt-tripping Mom. “We received this St. Patrick’s Day card addressed to my sister-in-law c/o my husband…even though she has her daughter’s address.”

related: theo(logical) fallacy

Grandmothers live for thank you notes — receiving them, writing them, not-so-subtly inquiring whether one might be forthcoming.

Jennifer in Michigan received this gracious note of thanks after a Christmas visit to her Grandma. Cue the violins, please…

(If you can’t read Grandma cursive, just mouse over the note for a transcription.)

related: Really, Mom, you shouldn’t have

“During the past few weeks, our  preschool-aged son has been trying to play games that are too violent for his classmates,” Juli says. “We’ve been trying to work on the problem with the teacher, but each morning’s drop-off has become a guilt and angst-filled time for me, in part because I can tell the teacher is trying to be nice but is so obviously annoyed by my child that I can’t control!”

(No need for siding with “team preschool teacher” or “team mom,” here — this kind of relationship is just emotionally fraught no matter how you slice it.)

And of course, the guilt doesn’t stop there. Jennifer in St. Cloud, Minnesota, found this note in her son’s lunchbox (along with most of a ham sandwich).

related: This is all about the childern.

Explains our submitter in New York: “This note is the result of a less-than-enthusiastic holiday food drive. Our office is a gray, lifeless place — what can one expect?”

(I don’t know…maybe some munchkins now and then?)

related: But what about Hawaiian Shirt Day?

Filching someone’s McDonald’s coupons…the “aggressive” flipside of the passive-aggressive offering of coupons for fitness DVDs?

“The person who sent this e-mail is actually a great and very well-liked individual at my place of work,” our submitter says. (Assuming, I guess, that one doesn’t come between him and his Egg McMuffins.)

related: sympathy for the devil

extra credit: Shaking things up at Dairy Queen

“To the best of our knowledge,” writes our submitter from Raleigh, North Carolina, “the bottle in question is one of those $0.79 plastic Deer Park water bottles.” You know, the special kind carried in just about every gas station, 7-11, and grocery store in the state.

Moral of the story? Just another example of how taking it upon yourself to clean out the ol’ office fridge can OMG KILL PEOPLE.

related: Your BBQ = 9/11

Heather in Indianapolis is the kind of gal who helps out a pal who’s down on his luck. So when her marginally employed friend needed a place to crash while he got back on his feet, she let Greg live in her house and help himself to her food and other belongings, like her laptop, “pretty much rent-free,” for three months.

One day, after several hours spent trying to get rid of all the spyware on her computer  — thanks to all the porn sites she found in the browser history — she turned on parental controls. (A lil’ passive-aggressive? Maybe.) Then, when she forgot to log off one day, Greg removed them.

When Heather figured this out (after being bombarded by spyware once again) she added the parental controls back. And Greg — instead of saying something like, “Hey, did you realize those settings block stuff like Google and Careerbuilder?” — left her this charming note.

“According to this note,” Heather says, “in addition to all the horrible things I’ve done such as give him a place to live, let him eat my food, give him breaks on rent for months at a time and put up with his laziness, carelessness and filth, I have also DENIED HIM A SOCIAL LIFE! OMG!”

UPDATE: The back of the note!

Shoshana, it looks like you have some competition.

related: WoW, indeed.