Tuesday, December 29, 2009

A Christmas Story

I'm one of the few people who actually like their family. No, not tolerate, not just love but really and truly LIKE my family. Now, I'm not sure if I would say this with the same enthusiasm if I lived in the same town but since I don't, everytime I'm in my hometown I enjoy every minute of it.

Side excerpt: My family, among their many suggestions, comments, likes and pure and utter distain regarding this blog told me that I use "WAY TOO MANY COMMAS". So instead of taking back all their Christmas presents and exchanging them for 75% off George Forman Grills, I've decided to try to absorb their advice and not, use, too, many, commas.,,,,,

Back to the story....Sorry I get side tracked, I'm off my meds. Which brings me to a word from our sponsor: Wellbutrin-The tiny pill giving you Christmas Spirit all year long.

Well, anyways, (comma,comma, comma)Christmas was great and my fam-damnly was even greater. I do feel somewhat for my family because they feel this deep amount of pressure to provide content for my blog. And since we all like each other and my Grandma isn't going to tell my mom that her green bean casserole taste like a bowl of dirty shoelaces, our enjoyable Christmas weekend would be rather boring to write about and you would all curse my name and shake your white knuckled fist angrily toward you computer screen yelling "Be Funny, Damn it!". You don't understand how much pressure that is on me. I found myself secretly wishing that my family would bring on the drama so I could entertain you through embarassing them.

But oh how my father never fails me. He waited until the Sunday we left, but ye, he gave me blog content. Yes, I am thankful for my dad for putting me through college, giving unconditional love, making grave sacrifices for the betterment of his family, but mostly I'm thankful for my dad for providing me funny blog content.

We ran out of paper towels during Sunday lunch so my Dad went into the pantry to pull out some paper napkins for everyone to use. He comes out with a huge pile of cocktail napkins and sets them out on the table. Everyone grabs one and my fiancee looks at the napkin and then tucks it in the front of his shirt where we could all clearly see the print on the napkin: "Jennifer and Blair R-------. July 16, 2005".

Yep, my family used the rest of Blair's and my left over wedding napkins during our Sunday lunch. I wish I would have snapped a picture of Mark with the wedding napkin tucked in his shirt. It was sooo funny!