These are the text messages I sent my wife Rachelle on Monday:
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Me: Yep.
Me: Dropped Jones off at daycare and am now at the polling station getting ready to cast my vote for mayor!
Me: No.
Me: Mayor McCheese is not on the ballot.
Me: It is a shame. Not only is he VERY experienced, but he’s also delicious.
Me: I agree, we do underestimate taste when it comes to appraising our candidates.
Me: I think Doug Ford would have been a buttery mayor, like wagyu beef.
Me: John Tory? The current mayor? Beef jerky.
Me: He looks creepy. Desiccated and plastic, like if you bred a dry roasted peanut with a Ken doll. Looks like somebody from Blue Rodeo who suddenly got really, really old!
Me: No.
Me: No, that’s not a “dig” at Jim Cuddy.
Me: All I’m saying is that his opponent, Jennifer Keesmaat, has aged pretty well.
Me: What?
Me: Look, all I mean is that she looks as good now as she did 15 years ago. Let’s smash the patriarchy and vote for her!!
Me: Oh.
Me: Well, when you put it like that I guess it does sound a bit like I’m going to smash the patriarchy by voting for a woman I think has aged well.
Me: And you think that’s wrong?
Me: Okay.
Me: Well, in my defence I knew JK back in the day.
Me: Didn’t I tell you?
Me: But look, I also like her transit plan. Very smart. And let me assure you, she’s more than just another pretty face! You should vote for The Keezer!
Me: A nickname I had for her.
Me: Oh, that was so long ago.
Me: Lava Life, I think.
Me: We only went out on one date.
Me: Went to Maine for a long weekend.
Me: Yeah, I guess it was a three day date.
Me: What did we do?
Me: Well, she’s a HUGE Stephen King fan so we went on a tour of his house in Bangor.
Otherwise, we just drank some wine, walked the beaches, talked policy. Stuff like that.
Me: Hunh!
Me: Hadn’t thought about that, but yeah, Stephen King’s house is my screen saver.
Me: Look, I hadn’t even met you yet!
Me: Rest assured, if you were running for mayor I would vote for you!
Me: You would organize the hell out of this city!
Me: You really would.
Me: And I LOVE the idea of making Toronto a Sanctuary City for all the lost animals of the world.
Me: You would be a way better mayor than JK.
Me: I would be a Russian bot for you.
Me: I would lie to congress for you.
Me: You wouldn’t believe how many laws I would break for you political ambition!!
Me: People would be screaming at me every goddamn time I tried to eat out. You can bet your bottom dollar on that.
Me: It’s true. You are the fire with which I burn. You have all of me, my love, you always have and always will.
Me: Yes.
Me: Absolutely. You have my word.
Me: I will change my screen saver.
]]>These are the text messages I received from my wife Rachelle the other day:
Rachelle: I’m not sure I think that’s a good idea.
Rachelle: Look, if you’re putting a pretend cast on our three year-old boy’s arm in order to attract the attention of celebrites at the Film Festival, you truly are a horrible father.
Rachelle: Because you’re using him as bait!!
Rachelle: You are exploiting a child.
Rachelle: Yes, even if he agrees to “play dress up for daddy.”
Rachelle: Jesus. Don’t ever, ever make me type, “play dress up for daddy” again.
Rachelle: Really???
Rachelle: That was actually your tag on Lava Life?
Rachelle: That is maybe the creepiest thing I have ever heard in my life.
Rachelle: I think I might vomit.
Rachelle: No, really. I cannot continue this text conversation.
( TWO HOURS LATER )
Rachelle: Really??!! You got Hugh Jackman to sign Jones’ fake cast for me???!!
Rachelle: That is the best thing you have ever done in your life.
Rachelle: Way better than that prank you pulled on the restaurant manager!
Rachelle: No, it was a good prank.
Rachelle: Yes, a really good one, I don’t think he saw it coming at all, but this, this is HUGH JACKMAN!! What did he smell like? Did he like what Jones was wearing? What did he write to me?? Jesus, did you touch him, did you put your hand on him at any point? What did he feel like? Did he talk to Jones?!
Rachelle: For the love of God, just try to remember what he smelled like!! Try. Try as hard as you have ever tried at anything in your life.
Rachelle. I know you have seasonal allergies and it diminishes your olfactory sense, but just concentrate, goddamit, what did he smell like? Was it the ocean? Was it the moon and stars? Was it roast beef and pumpkin?
Rachelle: Really?!!
Rachelle: Roast beef and pumpkin, I knew it!!
Rachelle: I don’t know how I knew it, I just did.
Rachelle: Yes, sometimes my friends and I talk about that sort of stuff.
Rachelle: Really?
Rachelle: You truly want to know what my friends think you smell like?
Rachelle: Jesus.
Rachelle: Okay then.
Rachelle: Ottilie said she thought you smelled like the interior of an old airplane, one that still carried the ghost smell of crappy sandwiches and cigarette smoke.
Rachelle: Well, if you don’t believe me you’ll just have to ask her yourself.
Rachelle: Just out of curiosity, what do you think you smell like?
Rachelle: Really?
Rachelle: I have to say, that was a very unexpected answer.
Rachelle: Was Hugh very concerned about Jones? Did he want to know how he “broke his arm?”
Rachelle: Okay then, “fractured his wrist.”
Rachelle: Hit by a pitch?
Rachelle: You told Hugh Jackman you hit our son with a hardball?
Rachelle: Jesus, Pickle.
Rachelle: NO FUCKING WAY!
Rachelle: You got him to sign, “Rachelle, play dress up for daddy, love Wolverine?”
Rachelle: OMG, that is the sexisest thing ever, wait until I post a photo of that in my Annex Parents group! That’ll knock Vivian off the front page for a day or two!
Rachelle: And did you touch him? What did he feel like? Was there any give, or was it all rippling, equine power?
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