A Letter To Barb

Dear Barb,

I already know the first word you’re going to say in your mind when you realize I’ve written your letter. 


That was the word, right?

You’ve only made me feel bad about not writing your letter for the last 14 months, but who’s counting? Oh right, you were!

It’s fine. 

Notice how I slowly turned this around and made you look bad for hounding me, when it is I, who has put this off for so long? It’s a talent. I use it when necessary.

Anyways, hello! Paul here. You there.

You know me as many things. I’ll list them.

1. Your favourite blogger. Obviously.
2. The person responsible for Canada showing up on your stats page.
3. Your blog son.

I can’t remember when it was that you adopted me as your first blog child, but I’m sure the paperwork is somewhere. Since then, I appreciate you bringing Chris into the family. I needed someone to not play with. 

Normally I save the cheesy parts for the end of the letter, but I figured I’d get them out of the way now, mainly because the rest of this letter is still writing itself in my head.

When I was away at school for four years, one of the cashiers in the cafeteria became my mom away from mom. She was my school mom. I think she was that for a lot of students. At the very least, she was a friendly face who was always happy to see us.

Before one Christmas break, she gave me and my roommate Christmas ornaments with our name on them. I’m pretty sure she didn’t do that for anyone else. She said we were like her kids. 

She called me the Cookie Monster because I always got a packet of two cookies with my dinner. She knew when I was happy, she knew when I was sad, she knew when I got pasta for the third night in a row.

She was the best.

I still remember saying bye to her on my last day and giving her a big hug. I haven’t seen her since. It’s been four years.

So I find it funny that now that I’m in a new “world” – the blogging world – I have another mom to look after me. 

You read all my posts. You comment on 98.3% of them (I ran the numbers). You tell me each one of my poems is the best one I’ve ever written. You tell me my sports posts are your favourite. You say the word “dope” at least three times a week, for reasons I’m still trying to figure out.

You tell me how my posts make you laugh so hard that your husband has to close doors in the house. That is my measuring stick for how funny something is.

You send me emails, you send me messages, you send me more emails.

You ask me for advice. You let me teach you “Canadian things”. You don’t put “u” in your words.

I never expected to find friends on here when I first started blogging. I repelled other bloggers for the first two months I was doing this. I thought they were scary. 

My mentality was: “Don’t talk me. I watched Americas Most Wanted when I was a kid, you’re probably trouble.”

But you’ve been nothing but nice to me the entire time we’ve known each other. When my blog was featured, it was as if your blog had been featured too, because you were often more excited than I was.

And when your blog was featured, I don’t think I could’ve been happier if a pizza had landed in my hands.

You know how much I appreciate you. Blog Brother Chris appreciates you just as much. 

From the top of my head, to the bottom of my maple syrup-filled heart, thank you for everything you’ve done for me. It means more than you know. I’ll never forget any of it.

Okay, now onto the comedic part of this letter.

You asked me how tall I am. Funny, I was just asked last week how tall I am by another blogger. Should I be charging people to find out my age? Are people really that interested?

To answer your question, I am 17 feet tall and 2 feet wide. I have 2 feet, that’s my width, right? And 17 – that’s just a randomly large number.

Alright, I’ll stop being stupid.

Honestly, my height is different depending on who’s asking. If it’s someone I know can take a joke or laugh at small things, I’ll say my height is 5’11 3/4.

But most of the time, I’ll say I am 6 feet tall. 

The truth is, I am actually 5’11 3/4. That’s no joke. I’ve measured with a measuring tape multiple times. I’m right on the brink of 6 feet, but not quite there. 

That being said, I’ll tell people I’m 6 feet tall just because it’s easier to say.

It’s actually fitting that I’m just short of 6 feet. It sums me up perfectly as a person. So close, but not quite all the way there. Also, I like being different and being 6 feet tall is too cliche.

I was once in a group chat with friends at school and they’d text every day asking what time people wanted to go for dinner. Everyone would say “5:30”. I’d say “5:31” just to be different.

When everyone else started saying “5:31”, I’d say that’s too late for me and I wanted to go at “5:29”. I do that with a lot of things. It’s a game to me. It makes boring things interesting. And it keeps people guessing.

That was a really long answer to a really simple question, but what else did you expect?

Finally, you wanted me to tell you a story about a little boy from Canada who found out his favourite pizza place had run out of pizza.

Before I start the fictional story, let me just tell you that this situation has happened to me before. Sorta.

Me and three friends once went to a Pizza Hut buffet for lunch. When we got there, the restaurant was closed for renovations. We then drove all the way to Niagara Falls just to get a Pizza Hut buffet. 

I didn’t make any of that up.

Story time!

There once was a boy named Russ. It was his 7th birthday. For his party, he had invited 24 of his closest friends from school to attend a movie with him, before heading over to his favourite pizza place, PizzaMania. 

14 friends showed up. The other 10 declined because 9 of them were teachers and 1 was a janitor, and they didn’t feel it was appropriate. That, or they didn’t want to see children outside of school hours.

Anyways, they went to the movie theatre and saw that summer’s blockbuster, “What Happens in the Sink”. It was a children’s movie about plates talking dirty to each other.

Things like, “This ketchup is not good exfoliant” and “I can’t believe these people went to watch TV and I have to sit here in my own filth.”

The movie ended when the plates decided to confront the humans, but as soon as the first plate jumped out of the sink, their bungee cord (an old piece of gum) snapped and they fell to their death.

After that, no other plate would sign a wafer.

Enough about the movie though, to PizzaMania!

Russ was so excited. He brought his appetite and everything. He sat next to his best friend, Gus, and the twins – Buffy & Muffy. 

Buffy and Muffy had their own little routine they had prepared beforehand.

Muffy: Hi I’m Muffy!
Buffy: And I’m Buffy!
Both: And we’re going to eat until we’re stuffy!
*Then they would both sniffle and rub their stomach with their hands. It was weird.*

Well, when Russ’ parents went to order the multiple pizzas, they were hit with some unfortunate news. PizzaMania was fresh out of ingredients. It turned out they had already held a birthday party that day.

But who? Who’s birthday could’ve wiped them out?

Then, Russ saw him. Russ’ arch-nemesis exited the washroom at the back of the restaurant. It was Malloy.

Mean Mug Malloy, the King of the playground and crusher of juice boxes. It was also his birthday. Russ was crushed – yes, like a juice box.

Russ: Ahoy, Malloy! You ate all the pizza!

Malloy: I sure did. And now we’re going to see “What Happens in the Sink”. I heard at school you were watching the movie first and then going for pizza, so I decided to come for pizza first and eat everything with my friends.

Russ: How could you!?

Malloy: With my stomach! 

Russ: Oh yeah, well the plate dies in the end! Broken bungee cord.

Malloy: YOU RUINED IT! You better watch your juice box on Monday, Fussy Russy.

With that, Malloy ran out to meet up with some of his friends who had waited for him – Leroy and the twins – Bill & Will.

Russ was furious and had to settle for another pizza place – Pizzahauntus. The restaurant was a play on “Pocahontas” but with a horror theme. Russ didn’t sleep for days. He said it was all the pizza he ate. His parents claimed otherwise.

The End.

Well, Barb. That’s it. I hope this letter lived up to your expectations. If it didn’t, just lie to me and say that it did. 

I won’t repeat anything I said earlier because that would kick the word count even higher than it is saying something twice would cheapen the first time I said it.

I hope you have a great day and a great school year teaching children who will see you as their school mom the same way I see you as my blog mom.

With an extra “u” in the word “favourite”,


(I took the “u” out of my name just to Americanize it. You’re welcome!)

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67 Responses to A Letter To Barb

  1. Quinn says:

    The sign-off made me laugh out loud! I hope Barb loves it. Worth the wait, huh Barb?

    Liked by 3 people

    • Paul says:

      Based on the long comment she left, I think it was worth wait.

      Liked by 2 people

    • Barb Knowles says:

      Very. Paul’s the best.

      Liked by 2 people

      • Barb, just so you know, I don’t blame you that my identical Canadian twin brother (he who shall not be named… because we both already have the same name) chose to send you a 100% letter before even giving only a 6% consideration to possibly dictating a 42% long letter to me—when all I’ve received is a 0% letter instead. I mean, it’s not my fault that neither he nor I can do the new math—we never had you as our teacher! Nevertheless, I would be remiss if I at least didn’t acknowledge that, so far, everyone in Canada (and some place called Montreal) and one American (that would be you), has received a letter from “The Captain’ (he probably was only a lieutenant) Speech.” I’m sure this is just an oversight on Paul’s part, but in case it wasn’t—Congratulations! 😀

        Liked by 2 people

      • Paul says:

        Haha I don’t even know what to say. Your comments have been missed. Or is it “mist”?


      • LOL! Does this mean, (at last) I could be in line for a letter? OH JOY! Not that I’m fishing for one—wink, wink. I mean, folks my suspect nepotism or something… a bizarre form of it, mind you. 😀

        Liked by 1 person

      • Barb Knowles says:

        You had to “sign up” for it a year in advance. I’m sure he will put you on the list. It seems exclusive, but it’s really a first come/first serve. Have a great day 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      • Ah Ha, a list, huh! Well, that explains it! My distant (a whole country away) Canadian identical twin, Paul, knew I had a deathly fear of lists—ever since that time I made the FBI top 10 list (as a typo), The New York Times Best Seller list (by accident), and for being the last one ever listed in a series of Infinity Lists which listed me last on their list… multiple times! Thus, he must have reasoned I’d not want to be included (as his only American identical twin… twice removed, but reinserted after realizing that I had been removed as a relative, not once, but twice before!) on yet another list, where I would probably have to have been listed last (because it was first come first serve, and I’m always last as everyone now knows) only as a courtesy to total strangers who were not relatives—much less his identical American twin—on account of our having the same first name. So it just stands to reason he wouldn’t ask me to sign up in advance knowing that I would probably be last to sign up. 😀

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Barb Knowles says:

    Whaaaaaaaaaat? I’m the first comment? That is so fitting, though. Moms come first. I will dwell on the mushy parts here and try, try, try not to make my comment the length of a post. I don’t remember when you became my blog son, either. And I don’t remember when I became comfortable enough with you to ask you to be my Houwdy (for my fellow Americans who get the “Howdy, need help?” or whatever the exact phrasing, I had to add the “u” for Canadian Paul’s sake). By the way, I haven’t seen Howdy in ages. Is that still a WordPress pop-up?
    Everything you said was true, except as you now know, my first word upon hearing that my letter was finally up was YAY!! When Canada doesn’t show up on my stats page I know that you haven’t read my blog yet. Although I seem to have attracted a few other Canadian followers. Hey Canada – start reading my blog!
    You are right, I have a bunch of school children as well. Mostly sons. Girls don’t need their mothers as much. But you and Chris are my only blog children. And each poem IS my favorite (no “u”) and your sports features ARE your best and I think your career is writing a Sports Blog for a major sports magazine/online magazine. So listen to your mother.
    And you’ve been nothing but nice to me. None of the typical son slamming his door and refusing to come out until he’s hungry. Yes, my husband knows when I’m reading one of your blogs and gets annoyed that I’m laughing so hard.
    Uh oh…….this comment is getting long. My husband says he’s 5’11 and 1/2″ tall. I say don’t be ridiculous. You’re 6′, just stand up straight. Same for you, Paul. You must get it from him.
    Aaaaaand, I think it’s funny that you had to/chose to drive to Niagara Falls for PizzaHut. Fiction story has a ring of truth to it.
    1. You are my favorite blogger (Chris, it’s just because I’ve known Paul longer….no blog-sibling jealousy please.
    2.I already covered the Canadian stats which is actually pretty embarrassing. I’m way more popular in Brazil than Canada even though we are neighbors with Canada.
    3. I’ve had readers ask me if you’re my real son because of our banter.

    Hey, Paul’s regular bloggers…I expect some good comments here! Give it up for my blog son. Woohoo!

    Your blog is dope.

    Liked by 5 people

    • Paul says:

      Darn! I was sure your first thought would be “Finally!” Oh well, Yay is better.

      You’re technically the 2nd comment but we don’t have to pay attention to that.

      Haha I don’t think I’ve ever slammed my door in real life. Maybe I did a couple times as a kid, but I knew that would just get me in more trouble so I would blame it on the window being open and blowing the door shut loudly.

      He’s 5’11 1/2?!?! What are the odds! Barb I’ve stood up straight and even tried to stretch for the extra quarter inch, nothing works. Maybe I should put shoes on.

      Lol I left out that the drive to Niagara Falls was only about 15 minutes but it sounded more dramatic if I didn’t say that.

      From the sounds of it, you liked the letter and I’m glad. I have 4 more letters to do. Maybe I’ll be done them by New Years.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Lynni says:

    This is sweet!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. With shoes on those two feet of yours you will soar above 6′

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Ann Coleman says:

    I can’t think of anyone who would make a better blog mom than Barb! (Even if she is from American and doesn’t put any “u”s in her words.) This is a remarkably entertaining and sweet post, and a perfect example of why I enjoy your blog so much!

    Liked by 3 people

  6. Ely says:

    Here’s my absolute FAVOURITE part, Pal:It’s actually fitting that I’m just short of 6 feet. It sums me up perfectly as a person. So close, but not quite all the way there. Also, I like being different and being 6 feet tall is too cliche.

    LOL! #teamgenius

    Barb seems wonderful. She is clearly very kind and very fond of you and who can blame her! You’re YOU!!!! I hope i never EVER have a blog mom, because I’d be grounded for EVER based on my language and all of the awful things I say lol! She’d leave me at the front door of a fire station, and abandon me- as I almost did with one of my recent posts. Ugh. unless she were a super chill kinda mom-fox. Meh. Maybe I’m jealous now HAHAHAH!!!! Sweet post!

    Liked by 2 people

    • Paul says:

      Favourite! Doesn’t it just look like a friendlier word with the u in it?

      You should follow Barb! Literally and figuratively! I just made this creepy.

      Oh stop! No one is leaving you at a fire station. You might have to put a soap bar in your mouth every now and then but that’s it.

      Also, my school mom’s name was Elizabeth. I called her Liz.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Barb Knowles says:

        Omg your school mom’s name was Elizabeth? I’m Barbara Elizabeth Augusta (we believe in many names in my family). And Ely, you sound lovely and I’m trying to be really good and not drop the f-bomb anymore. Which doesn’t seem possible yet but I’m getting much better.
        FAVOURITE DOESN’T LOOK FRIENDLIER WITH THE u IN IT. Although it just occurred to me that it is worth more in Scrabble than favorite.
        Is this a good time, not that anyone has asked, to say that I’m 5’1 and 1/2″ and I say 5’2″?
        But lately that’s seemed silly so I go the opposite direction and say 5’1″
        See? You have lots of fodder for a letter a week.

        Liked by 2 people

      • Paul says:

        So many Elizabeth’s! Favourite does look friendlier, don’t make me slam my door! I’m sorry, please don’t give my dinner to Chris.
        I don’t blame you for stretching to 5’2. I’d be like, “I’m 5’4 on skates.”
        Look Ely, you have a family!

        Liked by 2 people

      • Ely says:

        Lol! Barb there are those days when I wake up say “today I’m going to write a post without a F-bomb” and then I F-all miserably every single time I can’t help it. Thank you for the follow by the way 🙂 and also, I stretch myself to 5’2 as well!!! I’m 5 feet, 1.986577 quarters and a half of an eighth. That makes sense right?!

        Liked by 2 people

      • Barb Knowles says:

        Weren’t you just 6 ft tall? I’m getting so so so much better at not using the F bomb but finding that there really are a lot of other adjectives, lol. 🙂

        Liked by 2 people

  7. Ely says:

    Ha. Soap bars. That might work! And I am now following her ☺️ I guess I kind of figured you’d hate me Barb, LOL. I’m so hard on myself!
    Also- what is a school mom? You have
    All these kinds of MOMS and I’m over here like “I was an abused child and no
    One loves me”. Stop rubbing it in Paul! 😂😂🤦🏻‍♀️😂😂

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Barb Knowles says:

    And I’m now following Ely, my new blog daughter.

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Barb Knowles says:

    This is where I wait for Chris’ comment. CHRIS WHERE ARE YOU!

    Liked by 1 person

  10. This is amazing! Or is it amauzing? I’m not Canadian. I don’t know how that U thing works.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Paul! Ely told me about you. Said you’re hilarious. I was coming to check out and saw that you checked me first. You’re a funny guy and laughed and I’m following you.

    You and Barb are very lucky to have found each other. Blog families are beautiful. I started blogging with a post and flee strategy as well, but ended up meeting tons of awesome people once I stopped dashing away. I’m looking forward to reading.
    Lyz iwannabealady.com

    Liked by 1 person

    • Paul says:

      Hi! I saw her mention me in a comment. Welcome! The blogging community is pretty amazing. Sometimes I feel like I’m closer friends with people on here than I am in real life.

      I look forward to reading your posts!

      Liked by 1 person

  12. micqu says:

    Aw… This was such a lovely letter… You are a good almost-son.

    I bet yo are Barb’s favorite Pal.

    Ë schéinen Bonjour aus der Vakanz/ aus Süd-Frankräich.
    (Greetings from my vacation/from the South of France)

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Whoa whoa whoa, if Barb is your blog mom…doesn’t that make her my blog mom too?? Because I am your blog sister!

    When you say you have made a reader wait 14 months for a letter, it makes me happy I have only made a reader wait three weeks and counting🙊Am I evil for saying that?? No? Okay thanks Paul! But, you have more readers than I do so I’ll stop teasing. And back to bed Shaz. School awaits in the morning😪

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Angela says:

    Awesome! Is it bad that I really want to know what happened with Russ and Malloy in the school playground after the pizza place?
    I am just short of 5ft!!!! I’m more 4’11 and 1/4 though! I usually tell people I am 5ft too
    I’ve missed your posts so reading all of them now!!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Paul says:

      Russ and Malloy lived happily ever after, like every character in all stories lol.
      Oh man, I’d stretch 4’11 all the way to 5’1 if I were you! No one will call you out on not being 5’1.


  15. Oh sure I see, our friend, Barb, merits a letter from you but not me, your own identical American twin brother—who bears only a striking resemblance to you! I’m sure this all has something to do with my forsaking the worship of the sacred Canadian Moose—way back in 2016—in favour of worshipping the All-American house mouse—devoid of antlers, of course. But, in my defence, I was under the influence of a Budweiser at the time—as I had run out of Molson Gold. Still, I feel my failure to wear plaid—an obtuse Canadian custom—should never have been held against me, or cause for my failure to receive a letter stamped—PURE CANADIAN. After all, I am still an avid Paulo copycat cook—yes, I did dethaw my two slices of bread before meticulously covering my handmade peanut butter samwich (corner to corner) just like Paulo does—and on both slices! 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    • Paul says:

      Excellent! Chef Paulo likes when his viewers follow instructions down to the very last detail. Peanut butter all the way to the corners is the only acceptable way. Doing so attracts the All-Mighty house mouse….errr All-American house mouse.


      • I always observe chef Paulo’s COOKING instructions to the letter. Though, this time I had to resort to using a spork seeing as I was on a picnic—with some ants. However, they didn’t seem to mind at all! 😀


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