A Letter To Victoria

Dear Victoria,

Let’s tango! Not actually, though, because I’m here and you’re somewhere in the USA so that wouldn’t work. Plus, I wouldn’t know what I’m doing and probably step on your feet. Also, I didn’t mean “let’s tango” literally, it was more of a fun way to start this letter because you said you liked to tango….oh boy, what am I saying?

Well, that was a botched introduction. Let’s start over. Quiet on the letter. Take 2! Action!

Dear Victoria,

Let’s salsa!

See, I did it again. Okay, one more time. Take 3!

Dear Victoria,

Let’s salsa and chip!

NO. No. No. No. That sounds like a play on Netflix and Chill. That is not how this letter is starting. NO. One more time, a less awkward version. I promise. Introduction, take 4. Coming down in three…two…one…Let’s get ready to rumbaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Dear Victoria, 

Hi there! I know what you’re thinking, “Well well well, if it isn’t P-a-u-l.” You’re right. I hear you like to swing dance! That sounds like fun. I can only imagine how challenging it must be to get a playground to yourself and occupy the swings for a certain length of time. Parents with children must love you!

Do I like to dance? Well, some people have two left feet. I have three. So, yeah. I can do a killer YMCA, though! I always seem to put up a backwards “C”, but who doesn’t!?!

Hahah haha ha….

There. That’s the best introduction I think I’m going to get today. How was it? Answer on a postcard please. Thank you. 

I’m all over the place right now. And my hands are shaking. I can’t be nervous. No. I’ll get it together. 

Dancing has never really been my forte. I join a congo line when I see one, but one time that got me on a plane and all of a sudden I’m in the Congo. Since then, I’ve kept my dancing to a minimum.

I remember back in elementary school they put us into groups in gym class and told us to put a dance routine together. It was a nightmare.

We “danced” to “Smooth Criminal” and our routine (look at me using fancy dance terms) simulated sneaking into a house by smashing a window, jumping through it, and then stealing stuff.

Needless to say, my 12-year-old self was using dance to express himself!

And now I’m going to box step my way into something else.

Before I tell you what it was like that one time I found myself in my grandmother’s body for the day, I’ll address the question you had for me. 

You asked me if I’ve ever dated my best friend. The answer is no. And I don’t mean any offence to my best friend Chris or anyone who likes guys, but I like girls. So no, me and Chris have never dated.

Though we did go skating once. It was romantic. Like rose petals in a toilet.

I do have some really close friends who are girls, but my relationship with them is more brother-sister.

Allow me to go all Love Guru for a second or nineteen, though. I think dating someone you can call your best friend is the ultimate goal. Otherwise, who are you dating? An acquaintance? Are you going to go to dinner and talk with your mouth full of food with an acquaintance? No. You do that with your best friend. 

How do you find that best friend that you can date? A lot of luck. Or you can post an advertisement a dating profile online. But where’s the fun in that? Every generation before us found their best friend without online dating. Why can’t we?

Well, that’s my time. You’ve been a great audience. Thanks for reading my unqualified and unsolicited love advice.

Now on to the fun part of this letter!

It was about three years ago, maybe eleven, when I woke up and realized I was no longer in my body. What gave it away? The alarm clock went off at 4:30AM and there was an old man next to me saying we had to wake up and make pasta and sauce from scratch.

Hell naw, grandpa.

And then I looked in the mirror and saw my grandmother. Still being half asleep, I walked up to her to give her a big hug. I ran into the mirror instead. And then I was sore for the rest of the day. Terrible. Just terrible.

But when I ran into that mirror, it became real. I was my grandmother. I was almost a whole foot shorter, a different gender, and could tell you what the 1940s looked like. I would call it a nightmare, but then the phone rang and Paul was on the other end. This was a real nightmare.

As if I had been trained since birth, I immediately asked him/me if he was hungry. I asked him where his mom was. I asked him when he was getting married and if there would be cannoli at the wedding. 

I felt like it was my duty to know these things.

We had a nice chat, but not too long. 

My day was interesting. I went out to the bakery and couldn’t see over the counter where all the meat was. They called out #18 and I raised my hand and no one saw me. In that moment, I felt sorry for my grandmother. I also looked for a milk crate to stand on.

Well! I found a milk crate to stand on. And Victoria, let me tell you, everyone in that store saw me! I felt like the Town Crier shouting out orders.

“Hear me! Hear me! 15 pieces of prosciutto and 20 pieces of mortadella, pronto! My grandson is coming to visit today. Make it good!” 

As a grandma, I was laying down the law! It even crossed my mind to pitch a TV show called “Grandma Law”. It would be exactly like “Judge Judy”, except I’d be presiding. “Order in my court, you youngin’s!” 

As the day went on, I realized just how wise my grandmother was. I was inside her body and had picked up all of her instincts and wherewithal. And I didn’t mind being shorter. When I was in my normal body, I always hit my head on the ceiling in her basement.

Nighttime arrived and I started to sweat. We hadn’t turned the A/C on all day.

Then I started to wonder if I would wake up this way the next day. Would I ever switch back?

And then I realized how crazy I was acting because Jodie Foster and Lindsay Lohan switched bodies in “Freaky Friday” and eventually switched back and ended up normal. Well, sort of.

So I went to sleep and the next morning I woke up at 4:30AM and lo and behold, there was an old man sleeping next to me. Except I was back in my own body and in my own house. 

Dun dun dun. Who was the old man? Did my grandfather follow me home? 

No. I fell asleep while reading and my book lay next to me with a picture of the author on the cover. He was an old man.

And that’s my story!

Well, Victoria, this was a lot a fun! The start was a bit of a waltz, but I think I eventually electric slid my way into a nice two step before hip-hopping my way through the macarena and closing out with a nice twist!

I hope you enjoyed reading this letter as much as I did writing it. Have a wonderful day! Oh, and don’t forget to let the kids play on the swings in the park. They like to swing dance too.

Chips, dips, and dance flips,


Grandma

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About Paul

This is the part where I'm supposed to write something interesting about myself and you'll read it and think, "That's not that interesting." So let's not do that and just think about pizza instead, on the count of three. One, two, three. Donuts. Now, wasn't that interesting?
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13 Responses to A Letter To Victoria

  1. Jess says:

    I immediately thought of your tweet from a while ago when your grandma hoped you won’t die alone. Your grandma sounds adorable.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This was fantastic. I can’t wait to write back!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. yaskhan66 says:

    Great read Captain!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Angela says:

    Awesome, i love your Grandma she is adorable!

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Another fantastic letter Paul!

    By the way, the song I am listening to is “Fight Song” by Rachel Platten!

    Liked by 1 person

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