Baby Rangirl, by the team you read this there are a few scenarios I envision playing out here:

1) You’ve learned that boys are creepy unless they are at least doing their residency in becoming a medical doctor; at which point upon completion are date-able provided they too are 29 years of age or older. Psychiatry barely qualifies – add 10 years just to ensure he sticks with the profession.

2) The Yankees are your default team of choice- this is a less invasive way of proving you are my child as opposed to the Maury Povich Paternal Test approach.

3) You are not fat. Neither are your mother and I. We are stocking up on the fatty crap our parents hooked us on growing up, all while ensuring you don’t go down the same route:


Right now you reach for your peas over the cheeseburger, and we love you for it. Let’s hope your mom and I are also bringing our blended peas to McDonald’s along with your solid ones at our old age as you read this over the virtual newspaper sipping on the $1 any-size coffee.

It did feel weird bringing your healthy food (is it still healthy in your day in age?) to a McDonald’s. Whatever. Soon there will be fast food soy restaurants when traveling to see your grandparents out in New Hampshire.

But if we are still hooked on the grease…don’t judge. You keep eating the healthy crap (minus zucchini) we raised you on.