Saturday, August 13, 2011

From my pet rock

(Pre-Script: This post should be read as the song, "Between the Lines," #24 on the playlist, plays in the background. Go down to the playlist, click on that song, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...)(...still waiting...)

You know the type-the people who write their family Christmas letter from the perspective of the lowest denominator in their family; typically the family dog or the new baby: "What a year it's been! First, I was born, and Mom says she's so glad THAT's over, but I have no idea what she means; I mostly just cried and slept through it, and then they were all saying that I was the cutest baby that they had ever seen, and what a miracle I am, and everyone makes googly faces at me."

It's August, so of course I have been thinking about the Holidays, and Christmas in particular. I have been wondering about the annual Christmas letters. Not that I ever write them myself. But I wonder about the people who do write them, if this is how early they get started writing, and I wonder how long it takes to erase anything negative or less than perfect about their livelihoods and children, to plan out what they are going to say. How wonderful Timmy is, how involved and excellent he is in everything he does, so golden is his touch. I don't ever write those letters; I just can't think of a whole page worth of stuff to say about how perfect we all are.

This year, I think I'll send a Christmas letter, and it will be from my pet rock.

It will be a very short letter.

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