the REAL Christmas letter

What if our Christmas letters weren't the G-rated, glossy image of our families that we so badly want the world to believe? What if we just put it out there and weren't ashamed of our realities? I wish I had the kahunas to compose a REAL Christmas letter. I'd like to imagine that it would go a little something like this:

Dear Friends & Family,

Is it December already? Whew, seems like just yesterday when we hosted that golf outing to help raise money for Tom's bail. The year goes by fast when you're living conjugal visit to conjugal visit. We never did come up with his bail, but we sure had fun golfing that day.

In hindsight, it would have been smarter to put an honest person in charge of collecting the cash, instead of Tom's cousin who'd recently done hard time up in county. But, you live and learn!

This year, our little Becky graduated from beauty school. She's turned out to be a real bitch, just like her older sister. Which comes in handy when looking for a husband--not. We keep telling her that she's looking in all the wrong places, but she insists that the Mobile Gas Station on 44th street has the biggest dipsticks in town. Whatever that means.

Carl jr. is still in the 4th grade. We figure at this rate, he'll be able to drive himself to school by 5th grade. Sweet mother of Mary, the boy ain't right. Least no one picks on him. Him being 8 years older than everyone else puts him at an advantage. Knowing OUR family, we'll take all the advantages we can get!

We finally laid to rest our sweet Mee-Maw. Dang thing lived to be nearly 93. Well, we didn't so much 'lay her to rest' as forget to feed her for quite some time. We figured we'd keep her death a li'l secret....that is, until her social security ran out. We was livin' high on the hog for a while. White Castle every night... But that's all a passing fancy since our dog, Brutus dug her up and the nosy neighbor kid told his parents. Well, one thing lead to another and next thing you know, we've got the po-po knocking on our front door. There went that cash cow! Ah, it was fun while it lasted.

But, it's not all bad. Tom's parole hearing went off without a hitch. His release is set for 2034 and that's not so far if you think about it. Figure, he's probably learning some mad skillz in prison, more so than he'd learn out on the streets.

If anyone is wondering what to buy us for Christmas this year, don't get all crazy. You know we don't like hand outs. But Carl jr. needs a new mattress (he chewed his old one) and I could really use a carton or two of cigarettes. Maybe a bottle of booze (any booze will do) and a puffy paint kitty sweatshirt. That'd be real nice.

Merry Christmas!!!!

Ha ha ha.... I'm just kidding. That would never happen. This is more like how my Christmas letter would read, should I ever have the stones to write one:

Dear Friends & Family,

This year sucked. Jason works non-stop and I'm stuck here between these four walls for days on end. Jason tells me to find a hobby, but I'd rather just complain about being bored.

Ben continues to do well. He is a great student and a well liked kid. We don't think he's ours. Upon Jason's promotion earlier this year, Ben asked if he could join the local country club. We reminded him that we aren't "country club" people. To which, he replied, "WELL, I AM"!!!! He is well aware of the fact that he is way too good for our family. We think there's a grubby kid out there somewhere that belongs to us. But, we keep that under wraps because we believe Ben will be our meal ticket someday.

Gabe...... Um. Let's see. What can I write about Gabe that won't land me in jail? He's got the most darling eyelashes you've ever seen. He has a very healthy appetite, despite looking manorexic. His hobbies include eating non-edible things and that about sums up Gabe.

Me? Oh, don't worry about me. No, no, it's allllllll about the kids. It's children first in this family. Oh, I'm sorry, do you NOT speak sarcasm? No? Well, if you're going to live in my world, you really ought to learn the language.

The most remarkable thing to happen this year is that I finally conceded to the fact that I can't cook. I've suspected it all along, but the truth came out when I cleverly substituted baking powder for baking soda. Disaster ensued.

I've also upped my game where it pertains to hiding money from Jason. This year, I've graduated from hiding cash in the freezer, to actually taking out an additional bank account under my alias. Shhhh.

The high point of my year was my court appointed, community services. I'll just leave it at that.

The low point of 2009 was that nasty pregnancy scare back in March. Whew!!! Not enough vodka to smooth over that whoopsie.

You're probably thinking, "Leslie, How. Do. You. Do. It? You seem to have it all and you're just so selfless". Yes, well....it's the least I can do, for being allowed to live this lap of luxury. (help me)

Just another day in paradise!

Happy Freaking Holidays.