It’s time once again to reflect on all our accomplishments over the past year! Why? Because the calendar tells us we should, even though time is purely a construct of our minds and doesn’t actually exist! Except when you’re trapped in a mall parking lot with a carload of whining kids searching for that last parking spot so you can buy Aunt Helen the Duck Dynasty Chia Pet at 50% off.
Now let’s get to the bragging!
This year has been filled to the Pepto-Bismol brim with earth-shattering family events! Darla woke up one morning to find a giant crease down the side of her face from sleeping on her pillow’s seam, only to realize a week later it was still there. Because it was a wrinkle. Yes! A hearty congrats to her for continuing her steady decline in both looks and brainpower!
Life is like a box of sad wisps of neck hair.
In other news, Mr. Maineiac decided to save money by cutting his own hair with clippers. Which worked brilliantly until the guard fell off and suddenly Darla realized her lifelong dream of being married to Forrest Gump.
Ew. This dip tastes too “repent your sins now!” to me. Also, too spicy.
We are very pleased to announce our eldest, CJ, attempted once again to be the first 11-year old-boy to successfully kick his own ass, only to fall headfirst into the Nativity Scene, launching baby Jesus straight into the Seven-Layer dip. Tasty! Maybe next year, kiddo!
Next year, I’m putting broccoli in her chocolate milk.
And finally, our youngest, Little Miss J, cleverly switched out Darla’s shampoo and conditioner for dish soap in celebration of our annual Happy Pranksgiving holiday. While 100 naked Barbies enjoyed perfectly coiffed hairdos, Darla was left to wonder why her hair was as greasy as the puddle of turkey sludge still congealing at the bottom of the oven from Thanksgiving. Well played, Miss J, well played.
Finally, to celebrate our monumental year of milestones, we took a scenic drive to the local hospital after Darla ended up in traction (again). For several glorious days she dined on green Jell-O and punched the morphine drip button nonstop. “I’ll take ‘Meds That Might Kill Me’ for 1,000, Alex!”
from The Maineiacs!
P.S. If gift-giving this year, please send gin. I’m in Room 204.
(P.P.S. I’m not really in the hospital. I didn’t really buy a Duck Dynasty Chia Pet. But the rest of this newsletter is accurate.)