The Dreaded Holiday Newsletter

And while I'm on the subject of Holiday cards, have you ever received a “Holiday Newsletter?” You know, I had always heard about them, but since I had never actually received one, I thought for sure they were a fake.  I mean who is out there really writing about their lives (oh hold on, I'm not on Facebook either).  Get a load of this. 

The newsletter I received was from a friend who I had known for upwards of 35 years.  Believe me there wasn’t much I didn’t know about her life, which was far from perfect, but after reading about how charmed her existence was, my immediate reaction was ‘why in hell did she put me on the distribution list?’  I could see how she could fool her relatives in the great mid-west, but me? 

I used to listen to her rant on and on at least 3 times a week about her boob of a husband and his errant spending, speeding tickets and unpaid bills and how her mother didn’t help her out enough with her 4 kids and how her mom made lasagna for the kids when she SPECIFICALLY ASKED FOR SPAGHETTI and on and on it went.  So imagine my surprise when I got the Holiday Newsletter and learned that her husband and mother had recently been canonized.  Honest to God, the darn thing said that her husband was, and I quote, ‘the greatest dad and husband EVER!  After work he would dive right in changing diapers, helping with homework or starting dinner without a complaint.’ 

Let me give you a little insight into the husband; the guy was a neurotic Dallas Cowboy fan who showered before each game and put on his Cowboy underpants and sweats.  Practically everything he owned had the Cowboy logo sticking on it somewhere.  They had Dallas Cowboy dinner plates and cups, Cowboy socks hanging on the wall, a Dallas Cowboy credit card, fleece blanket, and as you walked into their basement the sign overhead let you know that you were on ‘Troy Aikman Way’.  This was a grown man with Troy Aikman and Emmet Smith action figurines on his table.   I think it was First and 20. 

Now I don’t care who exaggerates about what, but I draw the line when someone blatantly lies about their kid’s accomplishments.  The newsletter prattled on about my friend’s 6 year old son and what a tremendous Pee Wee football player he was and how his father never missed a practice or a game.  In fact, because of the kid’s blazing speed, the team had bestowed upon him a nickname worthy only of a top notch running back.  Now as someone who had frequented their house and was witness to one of the husband’s more amazing talents:  the ability to consume massive amounts of Coors in short spans of time, my immediate reaction was to tell her that I didn’t think they called the kid the “Silver Bullet” because he ‘ran really, really fast.’  But I kept my mouth shut.