BaddMinton

You all know the Christmas Newsletter. Some people love them, some hate them. Personally, I like receiving them because I like to know what my friends are up to, and I’ll be the first to agree that it’s easier to share news with everyone all at once rather than one at a time (see also: this blog). Frankly I’d rather receive the news than not receive it, and if it comes in the form of a newsletter, so be it. Have you ever noticed, though, that the news is decidedly one-sided? It’s only the good news, which is why some people call it a “brag letter.” It makes sense, because nobody wants to send out a Debbie Downer Christmas letter full of depressing news, but still… I’ve decided that when I snag myself a husband and a coupla kids, and a newsletter seems the appropriate thing to do, I am going to make it as candid as possible. I’ll give the bad news right up there with the good. Just for funsies.

An example, for your reading pleasure:

Dear Friends and Family,

Happy Holidays! We hope the season brings you much joy.

We’ve been married now for 20-some-odd years, and frankly that’s 20-some-odd too many, if you ask us. This year has been very eventful for us. From January through March, Frank had yet another in a string of affairs with his co-workers. But don’t worry, he got his just desserts. He got fired, leaving the family in financial ruin. Marcy’s shopping addiction and refusal to get a job of her own hasn’t helped. But we’ll pull through; we always do. Whether that means going on welfare, declaring bankruptcy, or simply mooching off friends and loved ones, we always find a way. (We are enclosing a self-addressed, stamped envelope in case you’re feeling generous. Charity is always welcome this time of year and always).

Denise is fifteen now; can you believe it? My, how the years have flown. In May, she got knocked up by her 18-year-old boyfriend and is now living in a convent for teenage unwed mothers. She keeps in touch, though, with the occasional profanity-ridden phone call and/or request for money.

Speaking of money, Jack hit up another convenience store in August, and his parole officer was none-too happy. He’s back in prison for five to ten, but on the bright side, he’s become quite the little license plate maker.

With both kids out of the house, we’ve got a little bit of the empty nest sysndrome, as I’m sure many of you can sympathize. We stay busy, though, so there’s not much time to be gloomy — between Frank trying every miracle hair-growth “cure” on the market and Marcy trying in vain to control her chronic athlete’s foot, we really haven’t any time to complain!

Other than that, we’ve just been keeping busy overeating and chain smoking! So here’s to a joyous holiday season to you and yours, and a New Year as blessed as ours will surely be.

Love,

Frank, Marcy, Jack, Denise, Scruffy and Buttons

P.S. After we typed this letter, Scruffy died of mange and Buttons was hit by a car. Happy Holidays.