Dear Friends, Family, and those who hoped never to hear from us again,
It’s that time again—time for our annual holiday letter. What better chance to bore you with the minutia and trivia of life over the past year.
First, we're sure you’ll share our joy that Uncle Albert survived three stints in rehab and is now at home in a flop house in downtown L.A. We plan to stop in to see him on Christmas Eve if we can find a safe place to park on Skid Row.
Aunt Marjorie, who divorced Uncle Albert a few years ago, will join us for oyster stew on Christmas Eve. We don’t know what we’ll do when she brings fruitcake for the 15th year in a row. We used the first ten as cobblestones in the garden, the next three as door stops, and the last one as a paper weight.
Now for the kids and grandkids—Junior and Bertha’s brood is up to seven, but the good news is that only four are still in diapers. Junior Junior was expelled from public school this year for writing expletives on the cheerleaders’ panties. Young Mary won the prize in her middle school for the most freckles; nobody noticed they were really blackheads. The triplets are in pre-school and have taken a leadership role, teaching their young peers to decorate the walls around the tiny potties. Baby Jane is still on the tit at age two and isn't interested in weaning. Bertha's warming number seven in her oven.
Daughter Sandra has produced her fifth child, Sam, out of wedlock. He’s a beautiful blonde, blue-eyed baby boy with the appetite of a lumber jack. At 3 months, he already weighs 20 pounds. We’re very proud of him. Sandra has done a wonderful job of "using" the welfare and foster care system. She and little Sam will lack for nothing this Christmas.
Grandma and Grandpa Smith are closer to each other than ever—sharing dementia as they join hands on the walk into their declining years. No need to buy them Christmas presents; they won’t remember them anyway!
Grandpa George will be with us for Christmas Day; Grandma Ruth passed in July--much to his distress. Grandpa had hoped she'd make it through the winter; he suffers from cold feet at night.
Finally, we want to let you know how we’re doing. We managed this year to travel all over the US in our Airstream trailer, stopping at Howard Johnson’s only during tornado warnings. The ride is becoming a little difficult for our four old hounds--Beaver, Bruno, Barkley, and Brutus; we have to make more pit stops for them than we do for Grandpa. The old cat is looking a bit mangy, but still enjoys chasing squirrels at our camping stops.
We want to wish you and yours health, happiness, and success equal to that of our family during the past year.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Bud and Martha
A freelance writer and full-time grandma, Lucy Lediaev retired recently from a position as web master, tech writer, and copy writer in a biotech firm. She is enjoying retirment more than she ever dreamed and is now writing about topics that are, for the most part, interesting and fun. She also has time to pursue some of her long-time interests, such as crafts, reading, sewing, baking, cooking, and the like.
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12.5.07 @ 4:50a
Sweetie, I'm frightened.
12.5.07 @ 9:36a
For some reason, this brings to mind "The Twelve Redneck Days of Christmas" and "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer".
12.5.07 @ 9:51a
Oh my God, this is, unfortunately, so true, isn't it?
There's such a fine line between a holiday letter meant to wish cheer and a holiday letter that just shows how flipping wonderful your family is.
I mean, I like to get letters when people have moved, show new babies, that type of thing. But, I'm also thinking that if I have to -wait- to get that news in your holiday letter:
1) We're not that close. No harm done, but, seriously, come on. If that type of news didn't warrant an e-mail to me around the time of the big event, why should I care now?
2) Does that mass-mailing of your life's events mean that I can do the same to you? How will you evaluate my letter?
3) If we don't have children, do you still care to know what we do and see pictures of it?
Again. Fine line.
12.5.07 @ 1:33p
My daughter accused me of plagiarizing a Christmas letter put out by my sister-in-law. I assured her that I had used multiple relatives and acquaintances for inspiration.
12.5.07 @ 5:10p
If we don't have children, do you still care to know what we do and see pictures of it?
*I* do. Especially if there is a stuffed tiger.