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Christmas Letter - Part 1 of 4

Tuesday, November 14, 2017



If you are a veteran of my Christmas letter, I am sure you opened it with trepidation. They are not for the weak of heart. If this is your first foray into my letter, how to explain it to you? Think of it like a horrific car wreck. As you drive by, you don’t want to look, but something compels you to just take a quick glance. Then you just can’t look away. Even though you are repulsed, your eyes remain glued to the scene. You know you are going to read it til the end, but a part of you just doesn’t want to. However, if I ever commit a crime, I hope you save these letters so you can help prove my insanity to the court.

Okay, so here we go with my 2017 plethora of ridiculous, yet often brilliant thoughts. First, my family feels they should have some sort of editorial rights to my Christmas letter as they are often mentioned. I really do not want to give them that kind of power, so I have decided to change their names to protect the not so innocent.

For purposes of this letter, my husband is now going to be called *Jack*. I admit that I really like that name for inappropriate reasons. If someone doesn’t know him I could say, “I’m sorry, you don’t know Jack?” Then they wouldn’t know if it was an introduction or an insult. Nine times out of ten, it would be a humor-laced insult with me being the only one laughing. (My brain is such a fun place to be. I amuse myself to no end.)

*Jack*

My oldest son will be called Antelope. There is no particular reason other than that is what popped into my head. According to *Jack*, he is really more of a lemming, but Antelope it is.

Antelope

The youngest will be called Bub, only because he is the furthest away from a Bub that you can imagine. More of a Socrates, but Bub will completely protect his identity. He tried to claim editorial rights and change it to “name omitted”, but then that would defeat my whole purpose.

Bub

The dog will remain K.C. because she doesn’t really care, and she can’t read this anyway. Although don’t tell her because she thinks that since she knows how to spell her name that she can read. Not many dogs can spell their own name, so I guess she is smarter than your average bear.

K.C.

Now that you have the cast of characters, and characters they are, tune in tomorrow for the next installment of my completely irreverent, irrelevant, absurd, Christmas letter.
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