Rob Ford is at my house

The author and Mayor Rob Ford share a lighter moment during treatment.

I am the undisclosed location. I can’t give you the address, for legal reasons, but I’ve decided to come forward because it’s only a matter of time before the media discover that Mayor Rob Ford is undergoing rehab at my house. After all, this is the story of our time. It’s like reality television, except real.

Mayor Rob Ford checked in over a week ago. Well, when I say “checked in,” I mean “showed up at the door.”

“Lookit, I hope you can give me a place to stay and the help I need,” he said. “And a sandwich.” Naturally, I had no choice, mainly because he’s way bigger than me.

“I also admit,” Mayor Rob Ford added, “that I’ve been rolling around with your dog, and I sincerely, sincerely apologize for the damage to your lawn. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. What more do you want me to say? How many times do I have to say it?”

The apologizing went on for a while, but soon we had cleaned the clumps of sod and were settling Mayor Rob Ford in to begin his treatment. Our goal was simple: keep Mayor Rob Ford out of trouble. In retrospect, my house is the ideal location because my kids are always telling me it’s so-o-o-o bor-r-r-r-ring here.

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