When the girls first met Rachelle and I they declared us their “real” parents–probably due to our liberal rules regarding drugs and alcohol and my collection of hats. No matter, since then, they have relegated their actual mom to “birth mother.” They are currently off working as camp counsellors for the summer, and have requested that I write them a letter each week. Here is one:

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My most cherished daughters:

It’s really hot in Toronto right now. So hot your birth mother might even consider putting on the AC. I, as you know, perish in the heat. Humidity is my enemy. I am TOTALLY racist against humidity. Not woke at all in that department.

Fuck the humidity!

I would vote for anybody who proposed building a huge wall between me and the humidity.

I really would.

Anyway, as you should, but probably don’t know, I work-out up to three hours a day.

Fact.

Not fake news!

Part of this routine includes walking ( pretty fast!) on a treadmill for 30 minutes a day. Today, on account of the heat, I took my shirt off to do this. Just as I was finishing and stepping off the treadmill, sweaty and a little bit dizzy, I spotted three young women passing by our front window.

I have to admit, I kind of froze.

Obviously, I wanted to dive out of the way and hide from sight, but startled, I guess, I made eye contact with one of them. Have you ever seen a face collapse? I don’t mean literally, like in a horror movie, but more an unmediated emotional response in the face of calamity.

This woman, the one whom I made eye contact with, had a normal, even confident resting face, but when she saw me standing there shirtless, all conscious control she had over her facial features simply vanished. It was like everything caved in and turned upside down at once—as if she had been seized by a kind of supernatural possession. She gasped and then leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees and stated to gag. One of her friends looked at me and started to desperately wave me away and out of their sight line, which of course, I dutifully did.

Really, really hate sorority girls.

Pretty sure they were from Alpha Gamma Delta.

Don’t you ever join Alpha Gamma Delta. They are the worst. Very stuck-up. And sororities are all about upholding cultural and social hierarchies. Sororities are not woke!

Thankfully, I am a middle-aged white man so the incident did nothing to diminish my mystifying confidence.

Anyhow, that is how my day started.

Soon I will clean the bathroom. Did you know that Rachelle made a chore list, laminated it and has now posted 8 copies of it throughout the apartment?

That’s more copies than there are rooms! It’s true, and you would not believe how unfair the list is!! Do you think I should be cleaning her hockey equipment and the Diaper Genie three times a week??? I swear, Rachelle thinks she’s such a big shot just because she has a job. Let me give you some fatherly advice, daughters, never, ever allow yourself to be defined by paid work. Or becoming a member of a fucking sorority.

We love you very much and ask that you please send photographs of Bigfoot and Mothman,

Your father

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Cab driver took one look at me and said, “guess you’re hoping for a better year, eh?”

And then he said his mother had the “psychic gift” and that he could “tell things.”

Feeling a little scared and vulnerable.

Hate cab driver.

Think he smells like weird soup.

Maybe some “chunky” variety.

Sirloin burger, perhaps.

Taking shitty route while he tries to get me to pay for a psychic reading.

Might be late for party.

Have you ever heard of anything so stupid? A psychic reading by your cab driver?

Feeling very happy I brought my flask out tonight.

How is the party?

Excellent.

Please save a bottle of wine for me!

Driver just said I need to live in a dry climate and should avoid olives.

No, not a clue why he thinks that.

Just hide the bottle in the bathtub. Put a blanket over it.

Okay, I’ll ask him.

He says it will be five bucks.

Bartering to give him lotto ticket instead.

Says I have an allergic aura.

Have you hid the wine?

Just do it!

That’s one of your resolutions, right? Do things!

So, just do it!

Jesus wouldn’t care.

Not stealing, redistribution.

Free market still at play, but regulated!

Am now asking driver what colour allergic aura is.

Says it doesn’t work like that.

I am drunk, yes.

At the address right now.

Driver just asked if I was on the pipe.

Crack pipe.

Because of my teeth.

Fucker.

Giving him expired lotto ticket for his psychic advice.

Yeah!

That bang you heard was me slamming the cab door!

See you soon, love you!

(there is a two hour time period where no text messages were sent)

HAPPAAY 20312 EVERYBODY!!!!

FUCK THE MAYA1!

HIGH HEELS VERY HARD TO DANSS IN.

FUCK11!

SPACE BROWNIES AWESOME

WHERE R UDUDE?

RACHYLLE AND I R AT PARTY

COME ON!

THEREES FUCING DRY ICE ANDHID 2 BOTTLES OF WINE IN OVEN!

This is Rachelle.

Michael is really, really drunk.

Yeah, like in a bad movie.

He’s very sweaty and I think he’s going to be sick.

We’re going to have to leave soon, so if you come, we’ll likely be gone.

DOING IT FUCKEN GAHGHNAMAHA SYTLE!!!!

CANT EAT OLIVES IN NEW YEAR.

BUMMER.

IT SUCKS UP MY AURA OR SOMETHING.

It’s Rachelle again.

We have to go.

He’s showing his scars to a couple.

He just asked them if they were foreign.

JUSS MET SOME CRAZY BRAZILIIAAAANIAS!

ONE WAS BALCK AND THE OTHER WHITE!

FREAK OUT!

It’s Rachelle again.

We’re in the cab home now.

Yes, he was just sick out the window.

Words can’t describe.

I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ll be able to make brunch tomorrow.