Dear God, we don’t talk much because you’re the divine master of the universe and I’m just some asshole who thinks you don’t exist. And I wouldn’t be bugging you now if it weren’t for my kids. As you know, I’ve been sick all week. And as you also know, my first grader is dyslexic and really needs extra time and attention to get her homework done and study for her weekly spelling test. She’s terrified that someone will call her dumb. And I’m the guy who keeps that from happening. Except this week, I haven’t been well enough or had the energy to do much of anything with her. And Erin has tried, but I’m the usual go-to guy, and Erin’s also doing *everything* else. What’s more, I’ve missed several of both of my son’s baseball games, which I suppose wasn’t such a big deal until tonight, when my four-year-old earned the game ball. I know he really would have liked for me to have been there to see it. And my oldest acts like she doesn’t need much, but actually she probably needs the most, and I haven’t been able to really talk to her long enough to get past the pre-adolescent BS and know how she really feels about whatever has been going on at school. And of course, there’s my wife, who already has a fairly full plate with the whole baby-saving gig you hooked her up with. But lately she’s been like a single mom with four kids and a job to juggle, and it’s kinda kicking her butt. Also, we’ve been eating like savages – don’t even get me started. Meanwhile, all I manage to do is an occasional work email or dumb Facebook post. [Speaking of which, here’s one I’ve been considering all week – send me a sign if you think it’s maybe over the top: “Fun fact: it turns out that the number of people who refer to my use of social media as an “addiction” is exactly equal to the number of people who can suck it.”] Anyway, all of this is just a way to say that it would be doing my family a solid if I could wake up tomorrow morning and just be Dad again.

Yours, etc,
JMH

P.S. I refuse to believe you actually care about it, but to the extent it matters, I’m sorry about all the masturbation.