Merry Christmas to the Forked Branch of the Family Tree,
As we speak, the toilet runneth over, so forgive me if I’m a
bit hasty with my Christmas wishes. Bill and Bo-the-Labrador are doing their
best to take care of the excess water, but Bo still gets the wrench and the
screwdriver confused, so the going is rough. I’m considering demanding a refund
for the training money I wasted. Who needs “Sit” and “Stay” when everybody
knows “Right Tighty, Lefty Loosey” is the way to go? Pet Smart, my nuts and bolts.
This year has been an inspiring and adventurous one for our
family as I have been diagnosed with the life-threatening condition, Snoring. To arrive at this diagnosis, I was festooned
with electrodes and starred in a video demonstration of my sleep habits, aptly
named “Night Noises.” This adventure was repeated a second time much to the
amusement of my insurance company who promptly decided I was a health risk and
rushed an invoice to my mailbox with the speed of Kardashian porn hitting
Twitter. At night I now sport an appealing breathing apparatus that attaches to
my face like a tick and huffs air up my nose like the Big Bad Wolf on House
number 3. Also, sometimes the mask slips, resulting in a noise that sounds much
like a family reunion after the beans have been served.
Bill, who only has to deal with diabetes, high blood
pressure, and ingrown toenails fails to see the glamour of the whole thing.
*Sigh* People who don’t have to suffer just don’t understand the trials that
the chronically ill must face.
Also this year, we’ve seen the rise and fall of the family
garden. Mostly it was the fall, since the only thing that rose were weeds and
grubworms, but we have hopes that the new fertilizer that Bill’s been
collecting will do the trick. I have confidence that he’s on the right track, although
I read on the Internet that fertilizer from cows works best, and even though
the Labradors are certainly large and do on occasion eat grass, composting
their output just because you don’t want to walk to the backyard trashcan is not
an optimum solution.
This is the year of the helmet for our son who has taken up
arc welding. You might want to tuck a spare pair of Ray Bans in your purse when
you drop by for the annual Christmas gift card and casserole exchange. Also,
don’t be surprised if you can’t open the refrigerator door or put the seat down
in the bathroom.
Living next to the Crazy Cat Lady finally paid off and we
were fortunate to end up with another free cuddly ball of fur, size tiny.
Although we can’t believe our good luck with pet adoption, our hope for the New
Year is a similar run on the Powerball drawings, as we’ve had to take out a
second mortgage and Bill is considering an exciting new career as a Wal-Mart
greeter in order to meet veterinary expenses.
We considered putting in a pool this year, but every time we
mentioned digging a large hole in the yard, the kids began to drool and request
notarized copies of our life insurance policies. Upon further reflection, a new dishwasher
sounded much more practical.
Best wishes to your family from ours. If you have exciting
news about a partnership at the law office or come into a substantial windfall,
be sure to update our relationship status on FaceBook. We all need a little
piece at Christmas.
Wishing you the best in the coming days and hoping Aunt
Ethel doesn’t drop her wig in the offering plate at church this year.
Signed, Out on a Limb of the Family Tree
