A coincidence, I think not…

Not one to toot my own horn (toot, toot, toot) all the time, I debated whether or not to share the following story. I had many options. I could have crafted this account to make it seem like Holly was writing it; I could have not taken the time to write it down at all or I could have just moved on with my life and pretended that this never happened and spare myself of the indignity that is sure to come when people compare the results of the article.

However, with that being said, I decided to push on and worry about the ridicule later. Take the instance where I came up with the truly brilliant idea of setting up a fake email from Monty Magelby, Holly’s old pre-mission boyfriend. I did not weigh the costs and rewards of what she might think (I probably should have) I simply pressed ahead and lived life to the fullest.

By the way, creating a fake email from someone is totally easy. Just go to Yahoo, choose an email address that seems like it is from another person and send it over. It is hilarious.

I did a bang up job on the email. It was a thing of beauty. It took me most of the afternoon to craft. OK, it really took about six minutes. After sending the email, I anxiously sat by Holly’s phone as it buzzed and awaited the moment when she would walk over, grab it casually and read this unexpected communication. As the moment arrived, I was not disappointed. Holly grabbed her phone, read through the email and laughed so hard a little pee came out. OK. I’m lying. It was a lot. We had to buy her new pants, totally ruined some really expensive pants.

But before we get too far off topic, let's get back to the story that brings us here today. So, as I was saying before I became distracted, Holly’s client walked into our house to get her hair cut. Sydney, the socialite in training that she is, walked over to her and said hello. She then reappeared with a recent GQ magazine. The magazine had a picture of Brad Pitt pictured on the front cover.

Being the good girl that I have come to appreciate, she walked right up to Holly’s client and said, “This is my Daddy.” Holly’s client, being boorish, rude and insensitive, said, “Yes, you are right. He is a Daddy. He has like, what 14 kids, or something.” This left Sydney perplexed and she said again, with emphasis, “No, this is my Daddy. This is a picture of my Daddy right here.”

This blind love and dedication to her father should immediately show you why I have such a fond place in my heart for Sydney. This is why I allow her to sleep at the foot of my bed every night and why I almost always immediately buy her candy whenever she asks for it, no matter what we are doing.

And for proof that this blog is not simply the ramblings of an incoherent man, the photo above is of Shiloah, Brad’s daughter which he had with Angelina. I know, I know - I wish I did not know that as well. But, as anyone can see, she is a dead ringer for Sydney. I mean, they could really be twins.

And while this is intriguing, it really could only mean one of two things. First, Brad and I, in fact, look so very similar, that we have been able to father girls who look like twins or, and more disconcerting, there may be something I should ask Holly about her relationship with one famous movie star. The very same movie star who was filming Ocean’s 12 in Las Vegas roughly 4 years ago.

On second thought, I’d better hurry and check if Brad.Pitt65@yahoo.com is available.