Dear Mother and Father,

How are you guys? Have either of you thought about Christmas yet? I have. I think about it every day. I look forward to seeing both of your shiny (glowing?) faces. Speaking of Christmas, I’ve thought of something you guys could get me a little early this year. As you know, I’ve been struggling a little bit – I was caught crying under my desk at the office yesterday – and I’ve been looking for something to get me out of this funk. Well, I think I’ve come up with the perfect solution. I would like you to buy me a lion. I was watching this video and got all teary thinking about having a companion a savage and powerful lion be powerless to the might of our love for each other.

Now, before you guys say this is just another one of my stupid ideas (I still think a water gun that shoots ice cubes is a fantastic idea and I’m sorry if my initial start up estimates were more conservative than what was really needed. I’m not pointing any fingers, but you were the guys who thought getting Milton Glaser to make the logo was “overkill”), let me explain why this idea would be different.

This idea isn’t going to cost you a thing. Well, virtually “not a thing.” Actually, it’s going to cost about $14k. Keep in mind, that’s a fraction of what I could spend. I’ve researched high and low and found a man in Flatbush who is selling his lion cub for about 1/3 of what I would have to spend if I sought the same cub from different sources. All I need is the money in cash, to ask zero questions and to bring something called, “the stealth of god.” At least that’s how it translates into English. I might be translating it wrong so I’m bringing a backpack filled with dice (it’s the only other thing I think “dios” could mean).

Of course I’ll need some supplies as well so we should just round the initial investment to an even $30k – did you know you have to have lion cages custom built out of really strong metal?

While there won’t be any monetary return on your investment, there will be a substantial return in love. And secrecy. I don’t think I need to remind you about the time Dad yelled at me in the 6th grade for picking my nose too hard. I wouldn’t want “certain departments of child protection” to find out about that. I also wouldn’t want anyone, especially the local hospital, to find out that the brownies mom and I made for their bake sale had Crisco in them instead of vegetable oil, would you? I think our secrets are best left hidden deep, deep in ourselves.

If nothing more, I ask you to do this because I’ve asked for very little in my life. Besides college, those three graduate degrees and that (what was I thinking) PhD, I’ve never asked you for a dime that wasn’t used for rent, business start up costs or the occasional rare Star Wars memorabilia. What I need now is to have the love and devotion of an animal that could maul me at any moment – it’s the only love I can know is sincere.

Please don’t tell my younger sister that you’re going to provide me with any funds or that I’m getting a lion. She’s very spoiled and would want a lion for herself (can you imagine Katie with a lion? That thing would get one view of her phone bill and rip her to shreds, right?)

In closing, I’d like to impart a quote I tell myself every morning: “To know yourself in the essence of madness is the only true nature of watching things grow in a way that can be sufficiently satisfying to the individual that we all strive to be forever without understanding the true thoughts we hold true to each moment of our lives in the realm.” It rambles a bit, but I’m pretty sure the meaning can be distilled clearly to: Get me a fucking lion.

Thank you. I will name my lion after you both – FarMom.

You’re loving son, you’re good-little boy, you’re “little captain”,

Carl