Today my aunt's Christmas letter arrived. I live for her letter. I truly love her and she's wonderful but her family is so accomplished it's comical. This year one kid ran a marathon in another country and got into a top engineeeing program, one kid got a sweet fellowship/post-doc job and my uncle the neuroscientist took up photography and, surprise, he's having a gallery show for funsies and now they want to do a permanent installation of his pictures at a university library. They took a few international trips, presented at some conferences, etc.
After we read it, my husband and I construct our imagined Christmas letter. Ours is always like: this year we replaced the water heater after a surprise flood. DH's job remained exactly the same but we really enjoyed the 2% bump per his union contract. DD is in pre-k and dance class and continues to be the most princess-loving, sparkly, and pink child on earth no matter how many building toys we buy. Our baby is in the 50% percentile for everything and my car is another year closer to paid off! Yay, us!
Is your aunt my mom's cousin? Their letter is the highlight of my year but I always feel awful about myself reading it.
Post by nextbigthing on Dec 28, 2016 15:20:38 GMT -5
Stbxh blocked me on Facebook, which I was planning to unfriend him as soon as the divorce was Final anyway. This made me go on an unfriending spree where I ditched everyone associated with him including mutual friends who I haven't heard from since I filed for divorce. It felt really good, divorce really shows you who your true friends are.
I put one of our very expensive kitchen knives into a container with some cake during my dinner clean up last weekend. Last night I threw out the container because I thought the cake was bad. Today my husband was yelling about how we were missing a knife when he was unloading the dishwasher. At first I accused him of being nuts because seriously how could we lose a knife? Then I realized my mistake and I had him go dumpster dive to find it because I'm way too cheap to buy another knife. On top of all of this...all I could think about was him dumpster diving with his iPhone flashlight to retrieve a knife and a cop pulling up (it was already dark out and we live in a patrolled area).
Post by sparkythelawyer on Dec 28, 2016 19:45:52 GMT -5
My Mom had a coworker whose holiday letters we looked forward to every season. We were jaded cynical new yorkers who moved to Chicago and said friend was from the middle.of nowhere Kansas. It was one of those alphabet ones where each letter started a new sentence. J was always "Jesus is the reason for the season!" And one year P was for the purity pledge their teenage daughter took. We always found it hilarious.
My mom's Xmas letter this year was divided into 3 sections telling stories from the viewpoints of 3 different dogs - her dog that died in March, my brother's dog, and her new puppy.
My mom's Xmas letter this year was divided into 3 sections telling stories from the viewpoints of 3 different dogs - her dog that died in March, my brother's dog, and her new puppy.
My mom's Xmas letter this year was divided into 3 sections telling stories from the viewpoints of 3 different dogs - her dog that died in March, my brother's dog, and her new puppy.
Now this I wouldn't mind reading
I'll scan & black out info and post it tomorrow. It's... my mom is special.
This isnt a confession, but i dont know where else to put it.
My boss is 93 years old. He still comes to work everyday. Last friday he slipped and fell in our parking garage on the way to his car. He busted his head open, blood everywhere, and was knocked out. He had let everyone leave early, but luckily there were a few stragglers and one of them found him as they were leaving. He was on the ground for at least 30 minutes. This 93 year old man comes into work on Monday bandaged up. He got stitches. Thats all. I feel like he needs to write a book about how to stay alive and well...i feel like most 90 year olds who fall break bones or worse.
This isnt a confession, but i dont know where else to put it.
My boss is 93 years old. He still comes to work everyday. Last friday he slipped and fell in our parking garage on the way to his car. He busted his head open, blood everywhere, and was knocked out. He had let everyone leave early, but luckily there were a few stragglers and one of them found him as they were leaving. He was on the ground for at least 30 minutes. This 93 year old man comes into work on Monday bandaged up. He got stitches. Thats all. I feel like he needs to write a book about how to stay alive and well...i feel like most 90 year olds who fall break bones or worse.
The wwmld thread reminds me of my confession: I pour my teens wine at dinner on special occasions and we all raise a glass to toast whatever the occasion is. I guess I didn't realize this is controversial.
I know it's not the same as having someone else unwittingly buy a drink for your 20 year old, though. Although I'd allow my 20 year old to have a drink, I wouldn't let him con someone else into buying him a drink.
My grandmother has had some great Christmas letters.
For the longest time, she tried to hide the fact that her and my mother weren't speaking. One year she wrote an entire paragraph about how my father had to have surgery and how he could use everyone's prayers. My dad didn't have surgery and we have no clue where she got that from. Since we hadn't received her letters in years, my mom thinks that she sent us the letter on accident. Who knows what she said about my family in the previous letters!
A few years back she sent another letter detailing how her husband was so ill and miserable that he begged her to shoot him since he physically couldn't manage to do it himself. She had some silly reason why she didn't do it, but i can't remember the specifics. The letter was full of wtf moments.
This reminds me about some of the stories that came out after my grandpa died. He was from the east coast but had moved to Ontario where he met my grandma and settled down. He would go home for visits occasionally by himself.
Years later, some of his family visited and said how they were sorry that she was never able to come to the family weddings over the years. It turned out that grandpa would tell everyone that grandma couldn't make it. Meanwhile grandpa never told her.