Dear Maya,

This is Pearlie, the first child of your father’s sister Kathy from Toronto.

Before they came for a visit, I told Kathy how nice it would be if her family moves back over and you and Pearlie would grow up together sharing clothes, fighting for boyfriends, bitching about their mothers.

And me and Kathy telling each other how we never unchain our daughters from the water heater in the basement because we haven’t seen you girls at home since you start dating.

But I really doubt that she would ever consider moving back. For those few days they stayed at our house, either your brother’s constant cannibalistic tantrums or your habitual finger-sticking into Pearlie’s mouth or my inevitable cursing around the house, they both were completely traumatized. Last time I offered to babysit while Kathy took a day trip to the States, there wasn’t one minute Pearlie was not crying. She’s in pain being around us.

We were able to take this picture without any bloodshed probably because either one of you was drugged.