It is again that time of year when baby Jesus rises from the manger, dons his red suit, and climbs aboard his sleigh to deliver dreidels and ham sandwiches to all the good, non-Muslim children of the world.
Speaking of winter, 2011 began with the first honest-to-goodness blizzard we’ve had in decades. For several weeks, our patio was converted to a “potty-o” as the snowfall totals exceeded Taffy’s ground clearance by well over 17 inches.
Karen declared 2011 the year of purging the unnecessary and lightening loads, which Mark took to include ancillary pets. Not only was Mark thwarted in his attempts to introduce the tropical fish to egg wash and Pankow bread crumbs, but his plan to set the parakeets free in time for them to reacquire their natural migratory instincts and thus return to their place of origin (which in the case of store bought birds raised in captivity is the nearest PetSmart), was likewise foiled by his bleeding heart children and bird-loving mother-in-law. In keeping with the “out-with-the-old, in-with-the-new” theme, Karen’s new husband moved in during August. He and Mark are getting along well, although the bed is a bit crowded.
Allyson was highly disappointed when her Magic 8 Ball ran afoul of her career plans by confirming she would be a famous dancer one day. Insisting it’s not fair she can’t have a cat just because her father and sister are deathly allergic, Ally decided it would be best if Amanda and Mark moved out. When confronted with the impracticability of that idea, Ally generously proposed shaving the cat so Mark and Amanda could stay.
In reading through her old school papers Mark & Karen were surprised to learn Ally’s favorite things about 2nd grade were morning snack and lunch. Now a mature third grader, having moved to the more expansive Intermediate School building and grounds, it seems recess has gained a slight edge over lunch.
Amanda has become one of her soccer team’s best defenders, a skill she no doubt acquired from watching her father repeatedly defend his manhood. Ally almost missed the fall soccer season owing to her preference for Wii athletics to sports not involving a sofa. To cure her of this predilection, Karen & Mark signed her up for boy’s flag football. Turns out she preferred soccer after all, quickly elevating her game from the previous season during which she was a finalist for the Orange Cone Award given to the player most resembling a practice drill pylon.
Amanda has adjusted to the rigors of Middle School with a shrug and a yawn. Her academic achievements and writing skills are overshadowed only by her ability to antagonize people, primarily her sister. K & M are working with a team of scientists to convert the energy the girls spend fighting into a commercially viable byproduct such as a “green” automotive propulsion system, free electricity, or a death ray.
In their quest to visit a place even colder and bleaker than Illinois, the gang traveled to Minneapolis prior to Thanksgiving to visit Mark’s childhood friend who recently relocated there. It was great to see John and Janet and their mastodon-size puppy, Lila. While the girls squandered their college savings at the Mall of Everything That’s Wrong With America, Mark caught up with a former roommate from the University of North Dakota who is there hiding from his ex-wife.
Karen continues to battle depression over her inability to clean the house more than twice per day owing to her aggressive weight lifting schedule. Incorrectly assuming he was completing the paperwork to become a living organ donor, Mark was accidentally elected to the local school board. The girls are excited to have some new “muscle” behind their pet initiatives including a three day school week, No Homework Month, and Talk Like Scooby Doo Day.
Even though George Bernard Shaw once described Christmas as an indecent, cruel, gluttonous, drunken, disorderly, wasteful, disastrous, wicked, cadging, lying, filthy, blasphemous, and demoralizing subject forced upon a reluctant and disgusted nation by shopkeepers and the press, and that if left to its own merits would wither and shrivel in the fiery breath of universal hatred, all those lights sure are pretty.
Merry Christmas to All and to All Good Grief,
Karen, Mark, Amanda, Ally (and Taffy too)
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