Alas, this may well be the last of the Layne Family X-Mas
letters as we have proven to be the most profoundly dull and painfully
uninteresting people left on the planet, so much so that a reality series based
on our lives would rate below a documentary on the growth rate of lichens.
The year began inauspiciously with the cancellation of
Christmas. In a gesture of appreciation
for her staff’s dedication to ensuring that meal deliveries would continue to financially
disadvantaged seniors, Karen’s boss gave all the employees of the DuPage Senior
Citizen’s Council a year-end bonus of COVID which Karen unwittingly brought
home and shared with the girls. Not
native to this planet, Mark remained immune and spent the holidays nursing the
clan back to health while jabbing pins into a voodoo doll resembling Karen’s
boss. Karen never returned to her job in
protest over the loss of Christmas and to avoid the temptation to commit
homicide.
Poor Amanda continues to suffer horribly owing to her outrageous
good fortune. How she managed to cope with the tragedy of walking in her ISU graduation
ceremony in April, finishing her degree in July – a full year ahead of schedule
even after taking a semester off and with zero college debt – then landing her first
full time job at the Barrington Hills CC a month later is certainly a testament
to her resilience and fortitude. Sadly, finding
herself underutilized and ill-suited for catering to the needs of the idle rich,
she quickly secured a new job in her preferred field of higher education which
featured a significant salary increase, a much shorter commute, and two bonus weeks
of paid time-off at the holidays. Truly,
the many hardships attendant with her free room and board, the injustice of
having to share the television, tolerate the complementary maid service, and
eat food she doesn’t particularly care for are more than any normal person of
her age should have to endure. Nonetheless, Karen and Mark are confident she
will one day heal from the scars of her tragic adversity, meet a kindhearted
and patient psychiatrist, and live happily ever after.
Speaking of football, nephew Jayson became the third member
of the extended Layne family to set foot upon the college gridiron, albeit the
only one with legitimate talent or any hope of success. Sadly, the Samford Bulldogs were without the
services of their newest offensive lineman when he broke his foot during summer
workouts and was forced to spend his freshman season walking the sidelines making
fun of the cheerleaders.
sandwich.
Back working from home, Karen devotes most of her energies these
days to caring for her special needs dog, Sparky. Never has there been a canine more lacking in
dignity and self-respect, nor since man’s domestication of animals has nature
produced such a mentally deficient aberration of genetics so desperately needy
and dependent on humans that he remains Velcroed to Karen’s chest and panics whenever
she leaves the room. Even Maggie looks
with disdain and malice upon her profoundly odd, obsequious cousin who, when
not encrusting his silky white fur in filth or barking nonstop at things he
imagines lurking outside, between the walls, or in the fireplace, scans the skies
for commercial aircraft which he chases across the yard in an apoplectic rage, angrily
scuffing his feet, dropping turds along the way.
Mark continues to become more unsightly and malodorous with
each passing year as he consumes copious amounts of preservative-laden foods in
an effort to prolong his life while he waits patiently for Led Zeppelin to
release their next album.
Speaking of dogs, it has been said that it’s dog’s life. As defined by Ambrose Bierce: Dog, n. A
kind of additional or subsidiary Deity designed to catch the overflow and
surplus of the world’s worship. These Divine beings in some of their smaller
and silkier incarnations take, in the affection of women, the place to which
there is no human male aspirant. Amen
to that.
Merry Christmas to All, and to
All Good Grief,
Karen, Mark, Amanda, Ally, Maggie, and Turdisaurus Rex
