It is once again that festive time of year when we gather
around the Christmas tree, raise our steaming mugs of mulled wine, and join
together singing Negro spirituals.
Sadly, the Laynes have dedicated 2015 to
proving themselves the most boring family on Earth, resulting in perhaps the dullest
edition of this tome ever. You’d think they
could at least count on Taffy to get skunked or eaten by a coyote, but alas, no. If they don’t step up
their game in 2016, their humdrum existence and inability to do anything even
remotely interesting or humorous may spell the end of this annual treatise to
the foibles of family hood.
Amanda's sophomore year is proving no more kind in terms of homework or her social discomfort. She finds high school girls a disingenuous gaggle
of despicable , backstabbing, self-absorbed narcissists concerned only with their
own Snapchat stories, and the school itself a fetid petri dish of virulent
disease. So far, she has fought the urge
to follow fully in Howard Hughes footsteps, stopping short of refusing to trim her
fingernails or engaging in profligate substance abuse. Karen and Mark hope the bio-containment suit they bought
her for Xmas fits. 
The victim of successive concussions during her freshman
soccer season, Amanda is the only student in her driver’s education class who
wears a crash helmet and balaclava – not because she is reckless, but in case
some old woman on a mobility scooter races past and runs her off the road. For Thanksgiving, Amanda traveled to Colorado
with some friends to visit a former classmate who moved there to flee religious
persecution and partake in the many medicinal benefits of cannabis. It was nice to have only one child at home to complain
during the holidays. Karen and Mark are already
planning her summer-long trip to Sri Lanka. 
Speaking of Thanksgiving, Leslie
and Jayson ventured north to join us once again. Jayson continues to grow at such a violent
pace that he will soon overtake Texas as the second largest state in the union. Leslie has been forced to special order his
shoes from a shipbuilder in Newport News, VA. 
Speaking of shoes, Allyson was
placed under a special order of protection by the FBI when they discovered
radical Islamic terrorists wanted to use her feet to develop a deadly neuro
toxin. It all started when Karen’s car was
impounded by Homeland Security after Ally left her softball cleats in back
overnight, causing the morning car pool passengers to become nauseated and
disoriented.
Fortunately, Ally and Amanda are getting along better – on alternate
Tuesdays. Having grown tired of listening
to Amanda bemoan her disease du jour, Ally has generously extended an open
invitation to escort Amanda to the “dying hole.”
For Spring Break, the clan
endured the 6.2 million mile car ride to Sanibel, FL, for the annual Bald Guys
Gone Wild festivities. After driving for
sixteen days, they arrived at the quaint island paradise populated primarily by
bicycle-wielding octogenarians. Tragedy
was narrowly averted when Karen veered off the bike path and tumbled into a Mangrove
swamp, almost losing the tomato she just purchased at the local market for
$17.95. Fortunately, she protected the
rented bike from serious damage, using her body to cushion its fall. Though badly bruised and humiliated, her
security deposit was returned in full.
Speaking of the beach, Mark continues to
gradually disintegrate like a sand castle at high tide. Owing to his once beloved University of
Illinois’ steadfast dedication to bolstering its reputation as the bellwether for
malfeasance and mismanagement in higher education, Mark has traded his
Bachelor’s degree for a certificate of completion from the Pivot Point School
of Beauty and Cosmetology. He’s offering
a special on French manicures during the month of January. Book your appointments now.
As J.B. Priestly
said of Christmas, “Something in me resists the calendar expectation of
happiness.”
Nevertheless, Merry Christmas to All, and to All Good Grief,
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