Once again it is that magical time of year when the modern world collectively rolls its eyes at having to hunt down mailing addresses for Christmas cards. People move too much for us to continue this snail mail card pageant. Is there some national registry where you get a permanent mailing address that you give out to everyone and you just update its final destination as you move? Because there should be that thing. And if there is, I want to know about it.
Peppers asked Santa for a tractor for Christmas. And then he asked me, “What’s a tractor?” He will find out on December 25th.
Salty continues to pose like everyone’s watching.
He asked Santa for a pink car that goes very fast. “Like the one we have at home.”
The Fluffatron 3000 told Santa, “All I want is for my family to have a wonderful Christmas.” That kid is such as suck up.
Mom and Dad asked Santa for many more years of being able to dress these kids in the most flamboyant, ridiculous outfits. This season’s crimes against pants were met with silent resignation and no efforts at removal. Ditto the hats. Fluffy complained that the ringlets cascading from her bun looked like octopus tentacles. And then wore them for 5 hours. Now that’s the upper hand in parenting.