But I did it. I made peace with my mother and said goodbye to her. On my weepy way home to Los Angeles, I had an hour to kill before my plane left Toronto, so I went to Mangez, a very clever restaurant with food stations serving a hundred different delicacies, from pureed unborn porcupine testicles to escargot smoothies. They also had crayons and placemats for kids to color. Several other diners huddled around me to witness the travesty that I was creating, and shook their heads in disbelief.
Apples are red or green or yellow.
I unfolded my Mangez drawing and showed it to him. He turned the placemat upside down and sideways a few times, frowned, glanced at my passport, and my Los Angeles address. You Californians are all nuts. I proudly folded my drawing and put it in my wallet. Actually, we're not nuts.