Sunday, December 12, 2010
2010 Chistmas Letter
Dear People We Know,
Michelle has been bothering me for the last month to write this. I keep referring her to the Dear Abby column about how no one really likes getting these Christmas letters, but she won't let up. (We love your letters though.) But I'll make this as short and painless as possible.
Whitney is in first grade. This year she learned to read and that her father isn't always right. We got a note from her teacher a few months ago saying they were having a class party and that everyone could wear their pajamas to school to watch a movie. It sounded fishy to me. I remembered how when I was in kindergarten they announced it was going to be "baby day" the next day, and how I came to school with a diaper over my Tough Skins and a baby bottle, and how I was the only one in my class dressed like a baby. It took me years live that down, and it still gives me nightmares. With this experience in mind, I suggested that maybe Whitney should pass on this "pajama day" thing. When Michelle picked her up the next day she was nearly in tears, having been the only one in her class NOT in pajamas. She and Michelle let me have it when I got home from work. I might have deserved it, but who came up with "pajama day" anyway, and why couldn't they have thought of it when I was 15 years old, and would have really appreciated seeing some of my classmates in their nighties? It took several sincere apologies and a trip to Olive Garden to acquire forgiveness for this mortification.
Dane's started preschool. When we pick him up, his teacher is always holding him, although the other children are standing patiently in a line, waiting for their respective parents. Michelle asked her why she did this, supposing that maybe Dane was her favorite student and that she just couldn't stop hugging him because he was so adorable. "He keeps trying to run in the road," she said. If he wasn't my own son, this would probably make me think about natural selection.
And speaking of natural selection, last month Michelle hit a deer down in Kanab while driving us back from Arizona after Thanksgiving, totalling both our Honda CRV and the deer. I'm still suspicious that it was a conspiracy between her, the deer, and the local Honda dealership, so she could score an Odyssey minivan for Christmas. You win this round, Michelle.
And as for me - nothing exciting ever happens to me. But I'm comfortable in my boredom. Oh, and I turned 40, so I automatically became a little incontinent.
K.C., Michelle, Whitney and Dane Woolf