I get quite a lot of Christmas cards each year, and many of them include an Annual Christmas Letter.
I've never done a Christmas Letter. I usually just enclose a picture of my kids in my Christmas cards. I figure all these people really need to know is that our kids are still alive and smiling. The rest is just details.
But with all that is going on this year, and all the changes I've been through, I thought it would be a good year to start a new holiday tradition.
So here's my Christmas Letter 2004. What do you guys think?
Dear friends and family,
Happy holiday everyone! Let me start by saying that it has been a wonderful year. And if you're just getting to find out the details of our lives through this letter, well, it doesn't mean that we don't love you. It just means that we don't care enough about you to actually visit, call you on the phone, or send an occasional e-mail.
As you may know, I spent a great deal of time last year mastering my masturbation techniques. The $50 we invested in a Hitachi Magic Wand was well worth it. I suggest you go right out and buy yourself one too. The sling, though, wasn't as much of a hit. It may have helped if we hadn't installed the ceiling bolts so close to the wall, but it only took one trip to the ER in January for a concussion to realize our mistake.
The little tuna girl started Kindergarten this year. We are awfully proud that she is the only one in class who can't write her name. We think she is a very creative spirit, and being stifled with the alphabet is just too limiting for her. She also played soccer this year. She never scored a goal, but we think it was just adorable to watch her dance in the field. The rules of soccer don't stifle her. She does what she wants and is a more creative creature for it.
She took swim classes in the summer, and although the other kids learned to swim across the pool and back, we think it is wonderful that she just hung on to the edge and cried. No one will force her to do something she isn't ready for. We know that she is building a healthy fear of the water, and that makes us proud.
The little tuna boy did not start school this year, though many of his peers did. But he was still wearing diapers, and that fascist school just can't see the health benefits of having mountains of dirty diapers to change every day. We've decided it is best to let him roam free and naked in the back yard. He has the freedom to eliminate wherever he wants, and the carpets don't get dirty. This poses a problem in the winter months, but we'll just hire a nanny to deal with that when the weather gets cold enough.
Speaking of nannies, I started dropping the little tuna boy off at Mother's Day Out every morning. I just need some "me time" and I know that his spending time with other unsupervised children will prepare him for the real world.
I spend my "me time" writing on the Internet. I have a bunch of readers who think that I am this sweet, little housewife, but you, our friends and family know the truth of that. I even met a lot of these readers on a recent vacation. I had them all fooled into thinking I was 31-years-old. If they knew that I trapped Tuna Man into marriage by lying about my age, putting holes in the condoms, and having my first child at age 12, they would think it was so funny.
And as far as the Tuna Man goes, well, you know that I only married him for his money. And what money he's made for me! I'll be set for life. This year I was able to afford some plastic surgery. I went in to have my face reconstructed, but decided that it would make sense to have a breast augmentation at the same time. Pictures are enclosed.
I don't know what the Tuna Man does all day to earn that money, but he wears some fancy uniform so I think he might be a stripper at an upscale club. If you want to know more about him you'll just have to call him. Or tell him to write his own damn Christmas Letter. I just can't be bothered.
So have a wonderful holiday and a happy 2005. Remember that we love you, just not enough to contact you more than once a year.
All our love,
The Tuna Family
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