The country roared in delight as Justin Trudeau was elected Canada’s next prime minister. Working class families headed to the nearest train station, hoping for an outstretched hand and a selfie with Mr. Trudeau. Single moms fantasized a revolution of gentlemen with class, humour, and . . . hair. Yogis nodded their approval in a gesture of namaste. Potheads high-fived each other and rolled a joint for the swearing-in of our second youngest, first hottest, and (arguably) most charismatic prime minister to date.
Our PM
We know he’s the son of the late Pierre and that, at age 44, he’s the second youngest leader of this country. We know that he’s all for immigration, rich-class regulation, and Indigenous rights implementation, that he endorses citizen’s rights, women’s rights, and senior’s rights and supports healthy kids, happy families, personal freedom, and —in a nutshell— is passionate about an all-encompassing, across-the-board, no-stone-unturned increase in this country’s happiness quota . . . And that’s all well and good, but . . .
The Man Behind the Minister
What about the stuff that matters? Does Justin do yoga, or is that only his wife’s passion? Was his athletic representation of Tree Pose on parliament hill media posturing, or does he really hit the mat for balance? Does he still box? Does he still have a six-pack? Are there more tattoos? What does he eat for dinner? Is there hope for the dissolution of his marriage thus rendering him the country’s most eligible bachelor? These are the things that good Canadians demand to know! To date, the answers curiously remain under governmental lock and key.
His Wife, a Yoga Teacher
Alas, for now we must trust in the known strength of the woman behind every successful man. With glowing hearts we shall “see she rise” and will remain confident in her intuition. Together as the True North, we remain steadfast and strong, united in our courage and yogic in our knowledge that we are all one.
Because today, in Trudeau we trust.