My father celebrates his 43rd Birthday today.
Married at 8 and had his first child at 13, things were often rough for us. He had to support us on his weekly paper route while my mother, 11 at the time, stayed home with me. He was often teased at school for liking girls by his friends who wondered why he was not able to attend the daily treefort meetings anymore. Having a knack for trapeze artistry he took the family along when he joined the circus. On the circus route my sister, Mandu, was born when my father was merely 15. We were often babysat by the bearded lady. Her name was Tammy. The money coming from the circus was not paying the bills, especially with two children. It was then that the CIA approached my father and asked him to become an international spy at the age of 17 1/2.
At 19, my last sister, coey was born in Minsk where we would spend the summers. The remaining 24 years my father has been stopping evil in its tracks. Although he says it has been a lot slower now that the cold war is over. I hope this email finds you in Tunisia, Paris or Vaasa. By the way, this post will self destruct in 30 seconds.
Happy Birthday! I love you Dad!
(I hope this gets to you soon. I have been trying to get intouch with you at home, but you are on the internet.)
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