Annette Morgan

DON’T I JUST WISH
(A Christmas Letter)

(Disclaimer: Any resemblance to any person living or not is purely coincidental)

Dear Family and Friends,

You may be wondering why, after all these years, I’ve broken my routine, and I’m now sending you a Christmas letter.

You may be wondering why you’re getting this crummy typed-on-plain-white-paper Christmas letter and not your usual hand-painted-by-me card.

You may be wondering why there is no Christmas gift from me under your tree this year.

Well listen up!

I am sick and tired of getting breezy cheery letters every Christmas from people I haven’t seen since high school (and we all know how long THAT’s been) telling me how they made this or that other kind of cookie with their grandchildren and ate them off of Grandma’s Limoges plates. My grandchildren live 3,000 miles away from me and can’t even pick up a phone and call once a year (the obligatory Christmas call doesn’t count).

I’m sick and tired of hearing how “Johnny and Jeannie” bought a mansion on the beach when the roof-over of my trailer house has been ripped off every year during every hurricane season and I’m still waiting for the insurance company’s rip-off repair – lucky to have that by New Years!

I’m sick and tired of working my butt off hand painting special Christmas cards for my family and close friends (takes me about three months to complete all those by the way) and the only person who ever says “oh how nice” is my mother. God love her, like all mothers, she loves anything I do.

I’m sick and tired of spending hours looking for that special meaningful gift for you and not knowing whether or not you received it because you never call or write to say “thank you”.

When I got sick and tired of that, I tried sending money. At least I know you received that because the bank always sends me the canceled check. Yours is in there, yes, every time it has your signature on it. And so you call or write to say “thank you”? NOT!

And don’t write to me this year and give me the list of college graduates, degrees, pedigrees and good health certificates. I don’t want to hear it anymore.

Listen up!

Son # 1 and his wife have got a divorce and it’s been running a close second to “War of the Roses”. Their kids have to repeat a grade because they are so distraught.

Son # 2 has just got out of State Prison and wanted to bunk in at my house and when I told him “no”, he threatened me. ME. HIS MOTHER! There’s now an order of protection out on HIS ass.

Daughter is pregnant again and has run off with the preacher. His wife called here every day looking for them and I finally had to shut off my phone. So don’t be looking to make that once a year, Christmas phone call here either.

The good news is that I finally got my false teeth in and could finally eat right.

The bad news is that Saturday night when I got drunk and threw up, I lost my new teeth down the toilet. When I went outside to get some fresh air and calm down, the door shut behind me and locked.

More bad news. I was in my birthday suit. The good news is that the man next door was able to get my door unlocked. The bad news is that while he was chasing me into the bedroom, he slipped and fell on the hallway tile because my teeth had caused the toilet to run over and flood the floor. The ambulance is just now leaving.

Listen up!

I’m sick and tired of hearing a year’s worth about your precious pet because, on its way out the driveway, the ambulance flattened my cat.

So Merry Freakin’ Christmas from the High Fallootin’ Mental Health Facility (where I’ll be until well after New Years.)

©Copyright December 6, 2004 by Annette Morgan