The fake Christmas newsletter

(It occurred to me that I recently promised to post a "Christmas newsletter" from a fictional family of my own design. Because I don't want to reneg on my promise, here it is. Might not make sense, and it's kind of scatalogical, but that's me for ya.)


Dear friends and family,

As we enter another joyful Christmas season, I pause to reflect on the wonderful year that has truly blessed our family. Rick is still enjoying his position as a Stool Polisher, and he expects a promotion to Stool Inspector later this year. Keep your fingers crossed for him! (Agnes, if you haven’t seen one of Rick’s hand-made stools, you’re in for a treat!) And he finally caught the Big One on his fishing trip in Montana with the boys this summer! Of course, he had to sleep in a separate bedroom until the rash cleared up, and we’ll be in couple’s therapy for another few months, but we’re back together and happier than ever. And so it went until a few weeks ago, when Rick discovered a small lump in his testicle. Oh, did we have a scare! Rushed to the hospital only to learn that the lump was actually a grain of rice embedded in his scrotum. (Is this a sign that we need to cut back on our trips to China King?! Haha!) Doctor Phillips says that with better hygiene and a few sitz baths, Rick will be back on his recumbent bicycle in no time, so no prayers necessary. (For now! :-)

Little Stevie rounded a major milestone in October: 720 days old, and in the 95th percentile for his age and length on the progress chart! We expect great things for little Stevie despite all that Softsoap he drank under the sink. I’m sure he’ll follow in the footsteps of his older brother Hunter, who we’re praying comes down from his bedroom for Christmas dinner this year. It’s been challenging sliding his meals under his locked bedroom door, and I would dearly love to change his sheets (if I could find them under the mess, haha!), but you know teenagers. Rick and I adjusted well to the loud music and muffled screams coming from his room with the help of some handy-dandy foam earplugs. (That music those kids play these days! Scares the dickens out of me. :-) I think Hunter will be graduating from high school this year. At least he should be. I haven’t seen him in a few years.

As for me, I’m busy as ever picking up the pieces from my shattered dream of becoming a gymnast at 41 after an untimely blow to the coccyx thanks to my neighbor’s haphazard sidewalk de-icing. It’s been truly challenging, but God bless whoever invented the inflatable donut pillow, refrigerated sugar cookie dough, and As the World Turns. Other than that, my job at the Dairy Princess keeps me hopping when I’m not sitting on my donut pillow…and because so much time has passed since the incident with Brenda’s finger in the Blizzee machine last March, my boss says there’s no reason I shouldn’t be promoted to Lead Drive Thru Coordinator any day now. I can hardly believe my luck. I guess it’s true that with hard work and diligence, you can achieve anything.

Oh, we can’t forget the pets who grace our home! Nibbles the cat is almost over that awful case of flatulence that burned Grandma Nell’s wrist at Easter (we’re still sorry Grandma Nell!) and back to watching Goldy the Goldfish swim about his bowl all day. Poor Goldy not only has to contend with Nibbles’ constant predatory staring, but he also recently recovered from a yeast infection. Who knew fish could get yeast infections? Amazing!

In closing, let us pause to reflect on the true meaning of this blessed season of peace. Christmas is really all about family, and about thanking God for the blessings He’s bestowed upon all of us. Well, except for those poor homeless people who’ve been murdered in the neighborhood lately, God rest their souls. Such a shame. Let’s pray there’s turkey in heaven. Happy holidays! Oops, I mean Merry Christmas!