Ask for a washroom and get laughed at. Mention a toque and wait for the blank stares. A week in America and the Canadian becomes the butt of a trillion jokes.

Trust me, it’s true, and the conversations about a boot eventually do become repetitive, but there isn’t much more a simple Canuck can comprehend.

A toque’s a hat, by the way – knitted and fitted, and it keeps the head warm in winter. And as I’m on the topic of explanation, I feel as though there is still explaining that needs to be done.

I believe that the Canadian should at least be understood to be laughed at rather than laughed at for misconceptions and should at least be appreciated for his or her international status. I think that the image of Canadians has never been properly drawn out for the American masses and the reality of what exists north of the border remains a mystery to all.

So I will explain. I will expose the truth about Canadians that has never been exposed before. You may have heard stories, but they are only that. “True north, strong, and free” has never been so true. While the jokes at our expense are all in good fun, they are based on a stereotype. But I am Canadian and I will make sure you understand.

Yes, we all wear plaid. We eat whale blubber by lantern light, and we spend our mornings with fishing poles held above holes in iced-over ponds. Our snow-covered horizons are brimming with polar bears and penguins and if the stars happen to be aligned just right, Canadians can see dinosaurs roaming amidst the snowflakes – yes, dinosaurs do exist in Canada. The Canadian always has at least one pet beaver; he keeps it in the house and feeds it maple syrup when it is hungry. We are all afraid of the dark. The Canadian’s toque is a shade of fire brick red. He sits on Chesterfields, not couches. We all live between walls made up of ice – igloos, if you will. The Canadian knows the names of every other Canadian citizen in the country because the population is approximately 100.

We go about our daily lives in search of warmth and can often be found hunting moose and cutting down trees. The Canadian never locks his dogsled – it is understood throughout the country that people are good at heart and crime does not exist. We all play hockey.

In fact, Hockey Night Canada is a national holiday and during playoffs no man shaves his beard. Every Canadian loves the snow.

Truth is, we deserve to be made fun of; we aren’t actually human beings. I can see where the inclination to poke fun comes from. For the most part I say to hell with equality and fair treatment of Canadians; we speak with an accent, after all. But every now and then make fun of us for a legitimate reason.

We do use washrooms and we’re convinced that the word crayon is pronounced with two syllables, but we give permission to laugh – at least now you know the truth.