HUMOR

An Apology

Dear Katya, my darling!

It was wonderful to have finally met your family last night. They seem lovely and very forgiving, and I say that because, well, I am afraid some things may have happened that require an explanation or perhaps an apology. Or two.

Now, I had to bring Aga Khan into the house, Katya. He would have asphyxiated in the car and every two hours I have to spread that ointment on his buttocks. Your father seemed fond of him, petting him and talking about how dogs lower the blood pressure. We can argue about whether or not it was a bite or a love nip, but Aga Khan’s breed is known for being affectionate, and your father, who is educated, should know better than to let a strange dog stick its nose everywhere.

Now, I’m genuinely sorry my dog defecated in your piano, but I thought the lid was down, honestly, and it wasn’t all that big a movement, considering Aga Khan weights 200 pounds. Further, that piano was already so out of tune, Katya, I could barely get through the Motley Crue medley I had practiced. I had thought your parents would have liked it, being retired classical musicians. Your sister, though, was dancing up a storm! And that was the source of my “pole dancing” comment. I had no idea she was a nun. Nor did I know nuns could swear like that! She’s colorful. I think she thought that I meant she should dance for that Pope, that Polish fellow, John Paul II. Now, your sister kept on about the current Pope not being Jewish. We have different opinions. I say Ratzinger is a Jewish name. Nuns can be prickly, though! I know from experience. Remind me to tell you about the time I backed my car into one. But I digress.

Katya, I am a man who speaks his mind, and this gets me into trouble often, but I do want to point out that it was your mother who brought up the benefits of a high fibre diet! All I did was show that video of my colonic on my Samsung. I thought I was adding to the conversation — a picture is worth a thousand words. Truly, the only reason people thought the video disgusting was because my particular colonic plaque happens to look like red Boston bib lettuce with pecans on it. There’s another way to look at this, Katya: your mother could have served a different salad.

Truly, I’m sorry she’s angry with me. I think she is a lovely woman. But, Katya, she DOES have a great rack! I shouldn’t have blurted that out, but I was caught off-guard. I suppose you take after your father more.

Finally, the dog and I are not taking the blame for that parrot, darling. If it’s that rare then it should have been in its cage and not darting about the house like a Stuka, and Aga Khan, as we established, is affectionate, so that too, was a love nip. A very big love nip. And as I write of love, Katya, darling, my thoughts turn to you, to me, to us. Don’t let a few minor faux pas (with a voiced “S” to indicate plural) destroy our wonderful love! Parrots die! Testicles grow back! But love! Our love! Our love is a fragile, bond between us.

I look forward to visiting you and your family on their yacht.

Your ever loving slave and devoted admirer,
Cecil

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Luke DeLalio

Luke DeLalio

Artsie and loquacious, Luke hangs out at the intersections of humor and regret, ambition and ambivalence, please more wine and jeez I need to lose weight.