If you're reading this, I have good news and bad news.
The good news is that you're still alive. The Mayans didn't come back to life and devour everyone's brains, as was predicted on the calendar. Or whatever it was.
The bad news is, you're still alive . . . and that means you're going to have to write a Christmas letter.
Listen, deadbeat. It's too late to send out paper cards, which you've been "taking a year off" from doing since 1993. In fact, failing to send out cards is the only Christmas tradition you've managed to keep faithfully, other than miraculously transforming, every Christmas Eve, from someone who owns six pairs of scissors and four rolls of tape into someone who is seriously considering using little dabs of strawberry jelly to stick together the shredded edges of wrapping paper, which you attempted to cut by scoring it with a Budweiser cap. Jelly is sticky, isn't it? Isn't it?
Settle down, twitchy. You can buy tape later. Right now you have to write a Christmas letter, because, although you have been assiduously updating your co-workers, gym mates, and entire eighth grade graduating class with Facebook pictures of your latest half-eaten lasagna, half-eaten frittata, and half-eaten farro salad, you have sort of forgotten to talk to your parents in eleven months. They don't know you've moved out of the country, changed your citizenship, become a communist, and given birth to twins. They don't even know you've forgiven them for making you take hand bell lessons in third grade.
In other words, you've been out of touch. Well, a Christmas letter is a graceful way to get back in touch. Because that's what decent people do, that's why.
And no, you can't send out cards in early January and play the "liturgical accuracy" card. Some people can pull that off, but not you. Why? Because the only stamps you own have jack-o'-lanterns or valentine hearts on them. And besides, what would you use to address all those envelopes when you have no pens -- no pens at all? No, you can't just write in strawberry jelly. What is the matter with you?
You're going to have to write an e-letter, which you can just blast out to everyone on your contacts list. Tacky, but acceptable. People have good hearts. People understand.
You really just have one more problem: What to say.
"Just tell the truth?" HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. Yes, why don't you just explain what your family has been up to for the past year? HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. Ohhh, man, that's a good one. As if you didn't expend enough energy hiding the truth about your family from people you know to be mandatory reporters. Now you're supposed to put it in writing and broadcast it to the world, with a big fat "Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Don't You Judge Me?"
Okay, look, here's the plan. You actually can tell friends and family about your year. You just have to be selective about how you phrase it. For instance, you could say,
"We are so pleased that the kiddos got into this elite new school. I don't want to be a name-dropper, but they have been on the waiting list for a lo-o-o-ong time. I think it was Junior's essay that tipped the balance and got him in!"
And nobody has to know that the "new school" is actually the Pauly Shore Vocational Middle School for the Entertainingly Pathetic, and that his "essay" was his entry into the Mom of the Year contest in the local paper, wherein he described your recipe for fluffer-ramen sammiches, which you packed in his lunch every day since kindergarten, and which may or may not be responsible for his extensive neurological lag.
Or you could just casually mention,
"My personal trainer says I've made huge progress this year!"
And you don't need to provide the trivial detail that your "personal trainer" means the guy who designs your prescription pants for super fat fatties, and boy, does he like a challenge.
Or you could say,
"We're so proud of Robert!"
And just leave out the part about
"Robbie got fired from his dental hygienist job again, and they refuse to even consider a reapplication until he returns the gross of Dragon Tales tattoos he stole from the kiddie prize drawer. The good news is, the statute of limitations came into effect before they were able to prove conclusively that he was the one huffing all the nitrous oxide, so they won't be pressing charges. Go, Robbie!!!"
You see? It's all in how you phrase it. Why, you could be thinking,
"What cruel twist of fate burdened me with a bunch of witless baboons like you? If there were any justice in the world, I'd be putting my feet up, listening to Bach, and eating a nice toasted bagel with cream cheese, and you'd be the one furtively scraping dried Spaghettios off your toddler's shirt as you try and make yourself as inconspicuous as possible in the orthodontist's waiting room, knowing that all you have to come home to is a trashed living room, a mountain of dirty laundry, and a hunk of chop meat that will in no way defrost in time for dinner."
and nobody but you needs to know that that's what you mean when you say,
"Merry Christmas, my friends."
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Here’s my serious take on Christmas letters. I choose a viewpoint through which I tell about some highlights of the year. For example, one year I wrote about our year in games, another in family celebrations, another on the strange weather we had had. I try to tie various events and milestones together through that theme, using my dry sense of humor at times. I also tie it to the real meaning of Christmas. This keeps the letter entertaining, and keeps people up to date without my resorting to a boring list of “Kid A is now in second grade, and he loves soccer,” etc. I get great feedback every year.
http://contemplativehomeschool.wordpress.com
Faith-based education, Carmelite spirituality
Personally, I haven’t sent anyone a Christmas card in years. Or for that matter any kind of card. No, our family seems to get by with visits a few times a year. No cards; no gifts. As for the Mayan thing I refuse to get caught up in that.
oh dear. I have to finish my Christmas letter TODAY. I can’t believe I’ve actually put it off this long. But it’s just because we’ve been so busy… I haven’t had to e-mail my mother back since Thanksgiving, let alone write a whole letter! grrr… Too bad i’m not a gifted writer with a knack for wit!—you are hilarious, Simcha!
I don’t do Christmas Cards. They’re against my religion. I know I saw something about “no Christmas cards” and “no ironing” somewhere in the Catechism…
Barbara, I’m pretty sure it says something in there about taking out the trash too…. ;)
I actually do e-letters every year because I like sending a picture of the kids done up in their Christmas clothes but I don’t feel like dressing them up before actual Christmas Mass. I wouldn’t really bother because I figure no one cares that much about what we’re doing - but people keep bugging me that I never send photos or whatever, especially since I gave up on facebook. I’m afraid my letters are very boring and not witty at all - but no one can complain that I didn’t send out at least one picture.
Sigh. For the past several years (since I had a December baby and had all the cards addressed and the letter typed really early with blanks spaces for the baby details) I’ve been great at getting cards out. This year we haven’t even gotten a picture taken. I’m tempted to print this piece out and send it instead of a letter; this is more entertaining than anything I’d write and it would certainly keep ‘em guessing about what I’m trying to convey.
Also, “fluffer-ramen sandwiches”! lolololol!
My sophisticated art student offered to design something avant garde—something that says cool…edgy…but effortlessly *classic*... but after careful thought and rumination, I’ve decided I’ll go for more bang for the buck. (Spending more than fifty bucks on postage is for losers.) I guess I’ll settle for the splash of an e-card ON Christmas day, as in “yeah, we just took this casual photo a couple of hours ago”, with all of us in color coordinated clothing on the beach. How could there be anything tacky about 10.5 people in white linen, denim, and bare feet in the sand? I’ll cover all my bases by saying absolutely *nothing* but “Merry Christmas”.
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p.s. I consider Christmas letters a rare delicacy. Just know that if anyone sends us one, I hush the crowd, dim the lights and do a dramatic reading.
I knew this was gonna be good when I saw the title :) Thanks for the laugh as I pack frantically for our flight!
This is hilarious!
When I was a kid my mom solved the “what to say in the family Christmas letter” dilemma by making each child write a blurb about his/her own life. She would take a sheet of computer paper and cut in into six not-so-even pieces, and each family member would hand-write a short letter in their allotted space (or in the case of my youngest brother, usually a hastily drawn Christmas tree and a drawing of whatever toy he most hoped to get for Christmas). That way, each family member was only responsible for a few sentences. As an added bonus I suppose it was kind of cute to see each child’s writing skills/penmanship improve each year. We still laugh about the time my sister wrote that she was “so tired of all this snow and shuffling the driveway.”
Merry Christmas to you too (and you’ll have to guess what I mean when I say that!)
I think I want to be Simcha when I grow up.
Wow. ‘Tis one bent “s’posed-to-be-just-because” Christmas obligations rant going on here to be sure. If this is indicative of the Catholic Family Handbook ~ all in jest of course ~ it’s little wonder the fallen away and lost aren’t tearing down local parish doors in search of Our Lord and His Holy Family anywhere in the vicinity. Sad times indeed…Sadder still that this kind of thinly veiled mean-spiritedness passing itself off as a cheeky promotion of “decent” family relating is anything but. Last I checked, resentment, bullying, and sarcasm belonged squarely dumped, flushed and redeemed via an encounter with the Living God Himself in that little box collecting dust in most parishes known as the confessional. The entire piece here simply illustrates the shambles so many so-called Catholic families are in today via the wholesale high-jacking of the Church by anything but benevolent powers that be… Indeed ~ especially during this Advent Season ~ we best be asking ourselves one very sobering and of eternal consequences question: will THE Holy Family find any true kin amongst the Sadducees and Pharisees of our day come Christmas morn? Guess that all depends if there’s any room at the inn of our ever needy hearts…
You can’t send out e-cards because great aunt mathilda thinks ‘e-mail’ is 5th class postage.
We just cheerfully acknowledge our gross incompetence. Heck, this year I was going to be on time for the first time in years, but we all got the flu. So much for that plan.
Anyway, I’ve been told that my cards really bring a lot of cheer to the bleak days of lent and the dogs days of July, so there!
And when you screw up and send them out late, you give everyone the best gift of all - the chance to feel put-together, organized and cool compared to you! Life’s been much easier since we accepted the fact that our family exists to make other people feel better about themselves! :)
Now here I am trying to have a peaceful Saturday morning, sitting in a coffee shop in all my childless glory, when you just about make me snort coffee out my nose at…pretty much every line. Seriously, I love you.
Your post had me laughing loud enough to wake the babies. But it was worth it. A very Merry almost Christmas to you, Smcha. You’re brave and bold and honest and practical and funny as all get out.
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Anyone trolling this post… I will pray that some of the Christmas joy of our Savior fills your heart. If that doesn’t work and you still need a giggle, check out these fun holiday sweater family photos. http://lifestyle.ca.msn.com/holiday-guide/living/awesomely-awkward-christmas-sweaters#image=1
Who told you that my secret name is twitchy?
Facebook killed the Christmas Letter.
Thanks! This might also work with some of us who have family that’s just a bit too high in their expectations…
Your luxury food of choice is a toasted bagel w/ cream cheese…
I had an aunt (whom my mother didn’t like and thought was stuck up for reasons other than this) who every year would send out a gooey, cutesy, self-congratulatory Christmas letter. One year, it was written from the viewpoint of the family dog, who we learned at the end of the letter had died six months previous. It was…weird.
I have actually been writing christmas letters for years now. What do I get for it? I wrote a summary of the now past years events to my parents for christmas. A lot happened in the family, a new baby etc. etc. Even the summary was quite detailed. True to form and very predictably the answer my dad wrote was ” you write nicely, but your spelling isn’t perfect” Even before I had sent the letter I had known that this was going to happen. Why do I bother at all. Well mainly because I need someone to carry our burden with us. My mother then rang and asked “dear oh dear and are you sure you’re allright?” and my father did not even hint as to taking in any of the information at all. I am not sure which is the better response. I think the two of them together make up the whole.
Absolutely wonderful!!!!!! I was going to write a post on ‘christmas letters’ which always make me chuckle because I know they’re not true, and you said this SO much better than I could have! Keep up the good work Simcha!!!!
Merry Christmas,
shalimamma at lifevictorious
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