From One Good Looking Family to Another

Happy holidays from your favorite asylum inmates! May the donning of a new year make the wild, exhilarating, delusional-filled roller coaster ride of life an adventure worth puking over. We put the fun in dysfunctional!



And in case you tossed our letter with the junk mail...

Dear friends and family,

My mom has been so busy preparing for the holidays that she has had little time to write our annual Christmas newsletter so she asked me to try my hand at it. Since she has been working with me on the big words this year, I told her I was up to the challenge. I feel it a privilege to be given such a high honor, especially since I look up to so many of you. And I mean that literally. After all, you people are two to three feet taller than me.

This year has been full of challenges and opportunities for our family. My parents have been discussing the effects of the down economy on our family, neighborhood, and community. I don’t really understand all that they are talking about, but instead of giving me two quarters for the supersized grab bags at the gas station, Dad only gives me one quarter for the small size. I think he and Mom are trying to teach me to appreciate the little things in life, but I am wise to their schemes. I know how to call for reinforcements (a.k.a. grandma and grandpa). We may be in the middle of a recession, yet it only takes a smile and a hug to bring about a showering of quarters. Perhaps Mom and Dad should try this technique with their employers. The world is a much happier place when you have never-ending supplies of tootsie rolls and krabby patties.

In July of this year, I celebrated my third birthday. I haven’t been accepted to pre-school yet, but I find I get just as good an education at Wal-Mart. Where else can you learn the finer points of quality assurance and product safety (I am the official tomato tester…and for the record tomatoes may look like apples, but they sure don’t taste like apples), measuring performance through better customer service (Stan, clean up on aisle four) and how to expose yourself to new markets (Wanna see my buns?) So you see, with parental control, mediocrity rules. Learning to be faster than your parents keeps you at the top of your game and creates a win-win environment for all parties involved.

Daddy went back to school at the University of Phoenix this past spring. He is studying education and stays up late writing papers and taking tests, yet he still has plenty of time to wrestle with me before I go to bed. Oftentimes when we are playing catch or boxing, he yells “Son of a Nutcracker!” I used to think this exclamation was a compliment to my impeccable aim, ball throwing skills, and awesome leg extensions, but now I am not so sure as he rolls into the fetal position and suddenly declares the game over. Does this mean I win?

During the late spring and summer months of this year, my mommy was considering a bid in local theatre as she was really putting on a show for the people at her office. Although we all know she has a flair for the dramatic, you have to admit that passing out in meetings, gagging over business lunches, and manipulating skin pallor is going through a lot of effort to get out of writing reports and planning public events. What people didn’t realize is my mom has been pregnant for most of this year. In fact, she has been expecting for so long that people are saying things such as, “You haven’t had that baby yet? Why are you still pregnant? Your pregnancy has lasted forever!” Instead of being upset by these comments, Mommy laughs and then makes a mad waddling dash to the bathroom because she has no impulse control anymore. In case you are wondering, Mommy’s doctor says I am getting a baby brother in about five weeks, but he has been wrong before. I told Mom and Dad from the beginning that no sister or “brudder” was allowed; I only want a “baby cicle”. (Motorcycles may be louder than new babies, yet I have discovered they are much more fun to sit on.)

I am pleased to announce that Grammy has survived her 84th year of life and her second year in our home. That’s all Mom will let me say about that.

In honor of an adventurous year, let’s all raise our sippy cups to a happy and blessed holiday season. The Amonett Asylum wishes you new-found joy, excellence in education, and a little tip from my dad… an endless supply of sport protectors.

Merry Christmas one and all!

Love,
Xavier