I'd Rather Be Naughty Than Nice

Okay, so I'm in the bah humbug mood that always hits me after I spend hours addressing those darn holiday cards. Oh yeah, I'm filled with holiday spirit. It's called a serious hand cramp.

Seriously, I think I'm mailing a Christmas card to everyone in the known universe. If you haven't gotten one from me yet, don't worry - it's on the way.

Don't you ever wish you could be totally honest in those Holiday cards? Like: "Dear Aunt Edna, I haven't seen you since I was six years old. I don't know why I'm still sending you Christmas cards, since you keep confusing me with my cousin who went to drug rehab, but Happy Holidays!" or "Hey, cousin Todd! Why don't you get a job and quit sponging off Uncle Ty? He's got four other kids to support. Merry Xmas!" or "Dear in-laws, can't wait for the passive aggressive remarks over the Christmas ham. Season's Greetings!"

Maybe I ought to write a blanket newsletter like some of my other relatives do. I love these, by the way. "Tommy scored three goals at soccer this year! And Bob is now head of the church choir!!"

These letters are always mind-numbingly boring. Why? Because you KNOW they're lying. They're leaving out all the really good stuff - all the bad news. (And people, you aren't fooling anyone by throwing in a bunch of exclamation marks. We know it's still boring, even if there are "!!!!" at the end of every sentence. It's just screams false enthusiasm.)

I want to write one that's totally honest. Like, "Dear Friends and Family, this year was an exciting year for my husband and me - we spent it drinking! Heavily! It's quite possible we're alcoholics, but we don't care. We're drunk!"

Okay, so I clearly have an attitude problem. It's probably all the Christmas music at the mall. I guess I'm just not a Bing Crosby fan. It's all his fault. Dreaming of a white Christmas? Ha! I'm dreaming of a Christmas with self-sealing holiday cards that address their darn selves. Here's wishing you all a very short Christmas card list this year.