The Curling Cougar

Dear Cheryl Bernard,

I'm gonna come right out with it. I know you Canadians like to play it coy but us Americans just say it like it is. So here goes: Cheryl, let's get married.

I know, it seems crazy. I've only known you for a week. But when you know, you know. And sure, you're married in Canada, but what does that even mean? I do not recognize the authority of the Canadian government, therefore I do not recognize your Canadian nuptials. I do recognize a perfect spouse when I see one though. And your grace, poise, clutchness, and most of all flexibility have caught my attention.

I understand that not knowing me even a little bit might make this decision difficult. I'll go ahead and tell you what I will offer as a husband:

• I will go to all your curling matches provided you are wearing the tight white uniform that you were wearing when I realized I loved you for the first time.

• I will not move to Canada, but I will buy pine tree scented candles from Target to make you feel more at home.

• I will buy you a pet moose that we will name Alex Trebek.

• I will wear one of Don Cherry's suits at our wedding.

• I will grow a mustache and wear denim shirts.
(Pictured: Canadian sex symbol.)

And don't let our age difference bother you. The exchange rate is like 1 Canadian year equals 1.55 years here. So you're only 28 in America.

So there it is: my proposal. Ball's in your court, Cheryl. Yes or no?

Love,
Tim

**Update: You're a San Diego Chargers fan?! How the hell did that happen? This changes everything, I take it all back. Sorry baby, we'll always have Vancouver.