(singing) “Jeff’s nuts roasting on an open fire.”
Merry Christmas, all my pretty ones. Love, love, love you, but only with the joy that is Christmas and not in a homosexual way like they’re trying to teach in the public schools.
Of course, my children are thriving academically – a beacon of light and Christian charity in this Godless world and throughout our holiday season. You know that parent who slaps a sticker over her back windshield or paint job? The sticker bearing the words: “Proud parent of an honor student!” Well, I’m that parent.
My son, Max, is flourishing with the fury of a Maine snowstorm. His reading scores are off the charts as he has moved beyond Captain Underpants and the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series.
Presently, young Maxwell is reading a study tracing the origin of the claim that Edward de Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford, should be credited with authorship of Shakespeare’s plays. Young Max stuck the fat book in my face and said, “Dad, guess how many AR points this is!”
My boy has been assiduously reading the book in between playing with his 3DS and making stop motion videos of his Legos. Maria and I are molding him into a little gentleman with imperial manners and grace.
Last night, the phone was ringing.
“Max, will you answer that?” Maria said.
“My butt will answer it,” he replied, followed by a ground swell of a fart.
Our daughter, Gabby, who also likes farts, has generated a bonanza of achievements herself, this year. She’s an excellent reader (Walter the Farting Dog, for example) and she has distinguished herself in the arts of cheerleading and stage performance.
Maria and I were wowed by her singing at the at the school’s annual Christmas program. You know, there are only about five or six songs that really are Christmas. All music teachers, in true spirit of this marshmallows and manger season, should stick by that formula, brooking no deviations from this most sacred of shopping holidays.
But nooooo!
Oh no, instead of Decks the Halls and Silent Night, the modern public education system promotes a lot of liberal hippie peace and love crap. My sweet little daughter is on that stage with impressionable children ranging from kindergarten to second grade, and they’re singing this hippie commie song, You’ve Got a Friend. Wonder what it will be next year? Some song about imagining there’s no heaven, hell or religion?
Ahh, so this is Christmas and don’t worry too much about the growing paucity of values in our world as the family and I will be spreading much Christian tradition of the Yule log and consumerism. We’ll be in front of Kober Brothers supermarket in that redneck town to the east of us, ringing bells for the Salvation Army. We always like to help the less fortunate like those condemned to living in the trailer park on the other side of the railroad tracks to the north of us. Not everyone can live in a nice manufactured housing community like we do and we like to remind people of that this time of year as we broadcast our charity works to lovers of Christmas across the land.
Yes, it’s been a very good year. And in other news, my brother, Perry, just returned from the hospital for procedural work related to his gastrointestinal tract. We were just talking to Perry about it over a dinner of green chili at the El Torito bar and grill. (There was a picture of green chili on the menu next to the establishment’s other fine dish – Intestino Amigo, translated Bowel Buddy.)
Great family, great friends – what more on earth can we ask for? A friend tipped us on a wonderful bread and breakfast establishment – Schrute Farms in Honesdale, Pa.
It was a rustic treat as we were invited to join in the beet harvest work with “Cousin Mose” at 6:30 a.m. We enjoyed a sweet breakfast of goat jerky and were treated to lavatory facilities in the bucolic mode of an outhouse with Battlestar Galactica posters adorning the walls and complimentary cornhusks to accommodate our sanitary needs.
Guys, are you taking lessons from the King of Romance?
I must go now, leaving you with the sweet holiday dreams of a child. May peace and goodwill guide you in the New Year, your troubles miles away. And remember that in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.
Peace be with you,
J. Guy & family
P.S. “1893 never heard of him, 1492 was too busy discovering things to even talk to us, 1965 was too noisy.” – From the 1976 ABC television special, Rudolph’s Shiny New Year, a sequel to the 1964 special Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Originally airing on Dec. 6, 1964 on NBC, this children’s Christmas special was sponsored by General Electric.
