Yes, my children were involved. Yes, it was after hours, meaning we broke into the mall, and yes it appears that—what was the old guy's name? Stanley. Right. Thank you—Stanley the night guard had some kind of heart incident when his shaky flashlight came bouncing over us making a hasty exit and he discovered my secret—yes: my 3 children were actually aliens from the planet—ah, well. They've pointed up at the same place in the night sky a few times and said one word over and over, so I imagine that's home, but I haven't been able to pronounce it. They were just on my back porch last Tuesday—taillights of some giant glowing blobby-looking thing zooming off into the sky—with this note, I have it here…in my…pocket—just—nope. Receipt from…Iiiiahhh…managed to smuggle them into the Cheesecake Factory over on 280, the old 3-aliens-in-1-trenchcoat trick—ah. Here it is. They had this note attached to them: Show my xorkons—not sure what that means—The Giant Foam Block Mountain Play Area, for it is known throughout the galaxy, brb to pick them up on Zorpday. And you see, well…back when Gladys and I…well. [Clears throat.] We tried a puppy, but Gladys just wanted kids so bad. We wanted kids so bad. And when we couldn't have kids, well…we couldn't have us. I guess. And I gotta tell you, having these three little xorkons has been just like I thought it would be. It's like…you have to have answers for everything. They just point, and you have to help them figure it all out: the dishwasher, trees. Crayons, apple juice, Kendrick and Drake. How families here can be just like families where they’re from…And I’m glad to hear Stanley is all right, I'll pay for what their little lasers did at The Gap, but when they saw The Giant Foam Block Mountain Play Area…when I saw their little silver faces light up…I dunno. You give someone something they really, really want…it’s nice to think I coulda done it. We coulda done it, Gladys and me. Oh, no. No, she isn't here. Heh: took the puppy, too. No. They’re gone too. Once we skedaddled and got back to my place, laughing, and laughing—they have this chittery little laugh—I thought everything would be okay, but…no, the next morning, they were gone. They did leave a little note in crayon, telling me I had been a good Zibby. Hoping that means dad.