Dear Spike:
"Let's clear the air on something right now before it becomes a problem," your mother tells me, out of the blue.
I swallow hard and look up with her with my best whatever-I-did-I'm-very-very-sorry face.
"When your daughter says, 'Mommy met a man' she's talking about the guy who loaded the bag of chicken feed into the trunk. That's all, OK?"
Whew.
I'm glad we got that straightened out. And I'm glad that your mother still doesn't know about whatever it is that I've screwed up today — and, alas, there is probably something that I've screwed up today.
Love,
dad
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