The Christmas Letter 2010
The idea for this blog began because of the encouraging responses we received from our friends about our annual Christmas Letters. So to keep our tradition alive for everyone, here’s a peek into 2010’s letter:
You know, normally at this time of year, I’m staring at a blank computer screen with a massive case of Christmas letter writer’s block. But I got lucky this year.
We had such a cold summer here at home, there weren’t a lot of “summer days” available to create stories about party hijinks by the pool. But I do have one. And all it takes is one, right?
It’s September. We finally have a nice warm day, and invite a few friends over to splash around. Dan is so excited, he digs out all the pool toys we haven’t seen in ages…including a crazy raft I had bought that features an attached cabana-type sunshade. So he’s out in the backyard…blowing up the raft. I’m in the house. I mean, how much trouble can he get in?
But after too much time had passed, I finally went out to see what was taking so long, only to discover him fretting over the raft. seriously fretting. Furrowed-brow-and-scratching-head fretting. “What’s the problem?”, I asked innocently enough (but secretly looking forward to the answer).
“This thing is defective! There’s no way to attach the cabana-shade. Go look on the box, and see if there is an 800-number I can call for technical support.”
For a $10 raft? Personally, I’m thinking that nobody at raft corporate thought this was going to be a necessity. But I wisely used my inside-voice on that thought, And like a good wife…I looked on the box. “Nope, hon…no 800-number”, I yelled back to him, still feigning that innocent voice that I learned at USC acting school.
Taking my life in my hands, I decided to get a closer look at the raft situation myself. And I’m sorry. Seriously. I truly do ask forgiveness…But I started laughing so hard, I honestly thought I was going to have an aneurism. Somehow…and don’t ask me how…Dan had blown up the raft inside-out.
When confronted with reality, even Dan started laughing. We couldn’t stop. When we finally came up for air, I just looked at him with the most compassionate look on my face that I could possibly muster, and said, “some years, the Christmas letter just writes itself, huh?”