A Letter To Carolina

Dear Carolina,

As I send this letter out to Chicago, all I picture is the mailman dropping it on the sidewalk and chasing after it when it gets blown away by the wind until it finally gets caught on a tree, or a kid’s face in a stroller. Whichever one is closer.

Perhaps I’m taking the “Windy City” nickname too far. Let me know if I am!

Regardless, hi Carolina! I hope you are well and this letter has found you without fighting the elements. By the way, I’m glad you asked me if Snow White and her Prince ever had children. I have all the details.

But first, a look at our local weather!

It’s currently raining where I am, which is an absolute miracle. Normally, weather forecasts are hogwash. They are like the lottery except no one misses out on winning millions of dollars.

Every weather segment on the news should be called, “Weather or Not”. You know, just in case.

I woke up to a text this morning that my friend sent after I went to sleep. He proclaimed his amazement that the Weather Network (our Canadian source for weather lies) went with the “mythical” 100% chance of rain forecast.

I find these “chances of rains” forecasts funny. In my mind there should only be 0%, 50%, or 100%. It either rains, doesn’t rain, or might rain.

What in the world does a 65% chance of rain mean? I know what that means in school terms having gotten a 65% in first year Astronomy, but in terms of weather? Nothing. It means nothing!

But I digress.

When I think of Chicago, I think of snow, wind, deep-dish pizza, President Obama, the sports teams, Wrigley Field and Steve Bartman, and Family Matters – the 90s TV show featuring Steve Urkel. That was one of my favourite shows of all-time.

Am I missing anything that should come to mind when I think of Chicago?

I was just telling another blogger the other day that I’d love to try Chicago-style pizza sometime. I lust over pictures of deep-dish pizza on Google more times than I’d like to admit.

Do you have any tips for a first time deep-disher?

That question sounded less strange in my head.

Speaking of questions, you asked me what keeps me going.

I had to think about that for a while because whenever I receive a question, my default setting makes me think of a witty answer first. It’s a terrible wonderful habit.

So, my witty answer would be: Food and naps keep me going. In that order. Food always puts me to sleep. It always has. I don’t believe in the “food gives you fuel” thing. It’s never done that for me. And then naps give me the energy to keep going. I know, it’s a very roundabout process.

My serious answer is a bit more…serious. I guess what keeps me going is the uniqueness that every day provides. No day is exactly like the last.

I think of the quote by Mark Twain: “The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”

I don’t think I’ve found out the “why” yet. I don’t think many people have, even people twice my age. But I feel as though each day slowly reveals to us why we are here.

Right now, blogging makes me really happy. Knowing that I can take a bunch of words, throw them into some sort of order and have people read them, relate to them, or laugh at them, is quite thrilling. And because of that, other bloggers keep me going.

Now, it’s time for the main event!

You want to know if Snow White and her Prince (Google tells me his last name is “Charming”, how charming) ever had kids.

Well! You’ve come to the right place.

Yes. They had two kids. A boy named Billy Blanc, followed by a girl named Lilly Blanc.

Here’s the story.

First off, Snow and her beau (can’t believe I just said that) decided they wanted their children to grow up with privacy, so they never told the media they had children. It was all hidden.

They decided that “Charming” was a horrible surname because it sounds fake and unrealistic. And “White” would tip off the kids at school when their names are read for roll call.

So the parents got creative and changed their last name to Blanc. It’s the french translation of “white”.

Billy came first. He was a barrel of a boy, in the sense that he ate a lot and liked to roll down hills. Who doesn’t?

His parents always, ironically, called him “Lil Billy”, which he hated. So when they found out they were having a girl, they named her Lilly. That way they had an excuse to say “Lil Billy” while playing it off as, “Oh, we were just calling both of you at the same time. Lilly, Billy, come in for lunch!”

When really, they were just saying “Lil Billy, come in for lunch!” Lilly would follow regardless of if she were called in.

Billy grew up and became Bill. He makes too many “Pay the Bill” and “Where there’s a Bill, there’s a way” puns. His friends have stopped liking his Facebook statuses.

Lilly grew up and stayed Lilly. She writes horror novels for children. Yes, it’s a genre.

I don’t know how old they are, but they’ve both moved out and live on their own. Bill is an excellent chef, in that he knows how to make Kraft Dinner without looking at the instructions.

Lilly enjoys foods that require a fork, but isn’t afraid to bite into a burger while out in public. At least, that’s what her bio says on the back of her first novel, “A Monster Under The Bed and Three More in the Closet”.

I’d say they have pretty normal lives. Their parents must be so proud.

I hope this information has been helpful! Feel free to share it with others. I think many people would love to know about their existence.

With that, I must be going.

Carolina, I hope you have a wonderful day! Remember that each day is a gift, even if there is no wrapping paper or bow. That’s probably a good thing. Imagine the landfills!

Rainy days and windy cities,

Paul

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