It's just so sweet how much my family loves the man in the mask. From the moment he showed up on our doorstep in the pouring rain, we accepted him as one of our own. He joined us at the dinner table that night--he even offered to carve the ham with the giant knife he had with him. Though he never speaks, we love his company.
We love how he embraces his individuality by wearing the hockey mask all day and all night.
We love how he flinches when he hears sirens.
We love how he insists on staring out our windows at the neighbors.
We love how he sharpens everything he can get his hands on into a fatal point.
He's just amazing! How lucky we were that he chose our house to break into and our privacy to invade. There is nothing sweeter than the looks my children give him. I wish you could see their faces.
I'm sure we will carry our love for the man in the mask to our graves!
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