Dear Katy Perry,
You don’t know us. And despite the fact that we may see you on television or on the internet or in the occasional magazine, we would never purport to know you.
However, I thought we should take this opportunity to reach out to you and introduce ourselves since you and my youngest son, August, age four, are apparently now engaged.
My oldest son, who is eight and most assuredly going on eighty, has warned August that by the time you and he can actually get married, “Katy Perry will be as old as mom!” Yet nothing can deter him. He is in love with you, thinks you’re the “most beautiful girl in the world except for my mom,” and even has plans for your eventual family, which he relates without pausing and without punctuation: “When Katy Perry marries me I will be so happy and we will have a little daughter named CeCe and she will be so beautiful and little and I will be a good father and hold CeCe so gently and change her diaper all the time and Katy Perry will not have to change the diapers just me . . .”
And so it goes.
Every day August asks me if I have been able to get in touch with you. Whenever he gets my phone in his hands, he attempts to call you. He is smitten and plans to change the diapers . . . All in all, not a bad deal.
The bear’s name is CeCe.
Of course it is.
My best to you during this very long engagement.
Your future mother-in-law,