Your mother has made some complaints about the gifts I, your dear father, gave you for Christmas. I would like to clear some things up. These gifts were not "from a gas station." They were from a mystic man who, yes, I met at a gas station. Because he works there.
His name was John. And I said to him, "John, I care about my children more than anyone in the world cares about them, including their mother. What can I give them to let them know that I love them so much?"
He said, "Tell me about them." That's why I was three hours late in getting you guys on Christmas morning -- I was telling this mystic man about how beautiful you are and smart you are, and how you are stuck living with your mother because she somehow convinced the judge that because she has a house she's "more fit to care for children than a man living in an efficiency apartment above a Japanese restaurant."
Anyway, my dear daughter Jenny -- I told the mystic man about what a gentle spirit you are, and about your hilarious jokes about never wanting to speak to me again. And he laughed! Oh, he laughed, Jenny. But, he said that you hold a great fear in you -- a fear of how much you love me. It's what makes you hide your love and wear black lipstick. And then he handed me a satchel and said, "Give her this, and tell her to put it under her pillow. It might look like Extreme Heat Beef Jerky, and it might smell like Extreme Heat Beef Jerky. In truth, it is a beef product of great cleansing power from my people. But do not eat it! For if she does, she will only know pure unfiltered truth." Also, I looked at the package after I bought it, and I noticed that the sell by date was in 2012.
Your mother doesn't see the value in this gift, but we all know that your mother isn't creative. She's a businessperson, and she doesn't understand creative concepts like "spirituality" or "imagination" or "open relationship."
And Adam! Dear, sweet, Adam. I told John about how you're hitting puberty late, and how I just know that you'll trade in that computer for a baseball glove soon. He pulled out a copy of Hustler and held it high above his head, chanting a powerful incantation. And then he gave to me and said: "This is no mere magazine. It has been imbued with the spirits of 100 men, and all of their strength, wisdom, and virility will be transferred to whoever reads it." It's a gift of such great power that I thought about saving it for myself! But then I realized I already had that issue at home.
Also, no matter what your mother says, these gifts were not "hastily purchased at the last minute, showing our children utmost disrespect." In fact, I had bought several other gifts for you guys. Right before I came to pick you up, my truck had been full of Xbox games, new iPhones, and cashmere sweaters, because I care about you a lot, and I want you to have the best things. But when I stopped to fuel up before getting to your mother's house, I met John, and I gave all the gifts I had previously bought to charity. Because, first of all, you all know that I love giving to charity. And I also care about you more than expensive electronics and clothing can say. I care about your souls. I want you to know truth and beauty, and if that truth and beauty happens to come attached to an air freshener with a picture of an eagle wearing a leather jacket that I give to your baby sister, I am not one to argue (unlike your mother!!!).
Anyway, see you guys next week. Also, please tell your mom if she's ready to take me back, I would like to come home.