Proverbs 18:24
Don your snuggly-wuggly flannel jammies and grab your hot chocolate and favorite stuffed pony. Gather 'round the fireplace, kids, because it's time for a CHRISTMAS STORY PULLED FROM MY RAVAGED TEMPORAL MEMORY CENTER!
My mom sends out a lot of Christmas cards. Like, a lot. She collects the addresses of everyone she's ever met and once a year, keeps in touch. It's sweet, actually.
One year, Tash was helping us sign the cards. Jeremy and Dad must have been hunting or something. Travis was there. I think he was set at task, folding the Christmas letters that Mom so lovingly and painstakingly had written and printed out, detailing each month of the year. Mom, Tasha, and I were sprawled out on the living room floor, signing the cards over and over.
You really can't drag somebody who isn't completely like family into a chore like this:
After signing, "Curt, Judy, Jeremy, Deanna, and Travis" for so long, Natasha accidentally began adding her own name to the cards... and no one noticed until a few dozen cards later.
Merry Christmas!
Love,
Curt, Judy, Jeremy, Deanna, Travis, and Natasha
There would have been some 'splaining to do that New Year.
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