This is seriously, genuinely an email I sent my parents last night.

Background: they live about five hours from the floods in Colorado, and it has taken me several days of awful news of intense weather-related devastation quite far from them for me to get off my butt and write.

Observe why I am the least likely adult child to be adopted anytime soon:

“It is customary to call one’s parents to profess concern about their safety and well-being when there is massive flooding hundreds of miles away.

But I’m a callous bastard who only calls if the flooding is, at minimum, in a neighboring county. So I  hope you’re not too soggy, I hope you’ll call if you’re in need or danger or dire straits.

We’re fine, we’re busy, we’re hale and hearty. And even though we’re callous bastards, we hope you’re all of the above, too.

Thinking of you, but not worried, because I’ve taken geography and am not dumb and also have The Googles, which tells me your last flood warning was July 31 of this year. I sincerely hope those mid-summer waters have subsided.

Considerately yours,

Your most bastard-y of your two rat-bastard children”

See what can happen if you parent your children reasonably well? What an ingrate. I submit the above as evidence that you should hire a sitter and run off to a tropical island, because your kids may never even email to see if you’re alive next time there’s flooding hundreds of miles away. And if they do, they might sass you.

Sheesh. Kids these days.