Fergusons Christmas Letter
From the book "Now in Paperback" by Jim Mullen who I hope gets book orders from this selection!
Dear Friends and Family,
Happy Holidays! If you’re saying to yourself, “That doesn’t look like a picture of the Fergusons on the front of the card,” you’re right. There was a bit of a mix-up down at the photo store but it was too late to have the cards done over. As you know, Bob and I only have two kids, not four, and neither of us have ever been skiing but other than that, it’s not a bad picture. And we got them for half-price, which is a good deal because we’ve had to watch our pennies ever since Bob got downsized. But we still wonder: who’s sending out our pictures this holiday?
Sorry we haven’t written sooner but neither of us has been in much shape to write this year. I donated a kidney to my brother-in-law Joe but he rejected it. It turns out he needed a liver. I always get those two mixed up. Liver, kidney, kidney, liver, what’s the big difference? We had a good laugh about it and I’m happy to say that Joe died with a smile on his face. Sometimes laughter is the best medicine. Josh and Amber both got into the community college. Josh is majoring in Body Piercing and Amber is waffling between Assistant Nail Technician or Tattoo Artist. As you know, there were times when I thought they’d never get out of high school. I kept telling them and telling them, “If you don’t get good grades you’re not going to amount to anything.” They’re glad I nagged them now.
Bob’s dad only has to wear the ankle restraint for another three months and then he’s off house arrest. He still swears he has no idea what happened to the church’s money and that he’s just the fall guy. He’s already planning a nice long vacation in the Cayman Islands as soon as he gets out. Bob’s working at the Big Pig BBQ until another “employment opportunity” comes along. The manager is pretty happy with his work because he says a lot of times older people aren’t quick enough to work in the fast-food business. Funny, I never thought forty-six was all that old. Yet even at his advanced age, he thinks they may make him afternoon grill manager.
It seems my job as a grief counselor isn’t recession-proof either. After their first consultation with me, more and more people find they have the courage to face this most difficult time alone. When they leave my office almost all of them thank me and say, “You’ve made me realize that it could be worse. Much, much worse.” I guess you can say I’m doing God’s work.
Bob’s mother is living with us now and it’s like having an extra pair of helping hands every day. She’s too frail to actually do anything, but she does what she can to motivate people. “Who taught you how to do dishes?” she might say, or “You call that a pie crust?” The kids just love her. If she forgets to say, “Are you going out looking like that?” when they leave the house they feel neglected. Everyone loves her, she’s such a people person.
We don’t hang stockings over the Yule Log anymore since the accident last year. Who knew a sock could burn like that? Not Fluffy, that’s for sure. Most of her fur has grown back but she still won’t sleep on the mantel like she used to. That’s about it for us, but here’s wishing you’ll have as happy a holiday as we will this year. —
The Fergusons
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