Regarding Rosie’s comment in that email about my father.

I never knew my father. He left my mother and me before I was born. In fact, I only knew my mother for five weeks before I left home to find a family that needed shoes chewed. Your family’s collection certainly kept me busy. I hope that Eva appreciated the effort I went into to pry her door open in order to help reconfigure her shoes.

Anyhow, I do remember my mom talking about a German Shepard, so I always assumed he was my dad.

People here in Larchmont have speculated that my father was a dachshund. But I refuse to acknowledge that my dad was a walking wiener. I mean, how would you feel if I told you that your dad is a Physics dud. Let’s stop insulting each others’ dads. I’ll agree to your dad’s superior intelligence and sense of humor if you admit that mine was probably a German Shepard.

I see you visited a museum with German art. I hope you followed my advice from the last entry.

Can’t wait to see you, but it’s a long walk from JFK if you don’t let your dad know your flight info.

– Dewie