Merry Christmas 2007
From Brad, Gwen, Odin, Cyrus, and Drake Myers
What was new? Drake was new. Cyrus was in preschool. Odin was in kindergarten. Skipper was a tumor. Gilligan was fat. Gwen was hot. I was 40, gelded, fat, and not hot.
What’s new now? Let’s start with excuses. I broke my arm and am writing this Christmas newsletter- entirely using speech recognition. Since I speak like an idiot this letter will continue to read like an idiot wrote it, which makes perfect sense and stays in line with previous Christmas newsletters. I’ll tally the words speech rec. doesn’t rec. at the end.
Drake (22m) is really cute and has long curly blond hair. He says things like, please, cheese, and thank you. He dances to any music that’s played, even when music is the sound of a page being printed from a printer. He’s really happy all the time and likes to go to bed at night, which is a first from the Myers boys.
Cyrus (5y) is a clown. Not the creepy, scary type of clown but the funny kind without the makeup or big shoes, he’s just a real funny kid. He’s picked up poo humor from somewhere and it’s frickin’ funny. He’s done well with keeping the poo humor within our home and not at school. He’s also very smart, he can write and read and do basic math, which puts him at the top of the class—in this house. It’s not a high bar to get over around here, if you can write and read and can tell the difference between a nickel bag and a dime bag, you’d be head of household on our tax form. Cyrus continues to repeat commercial jingles, sings when he poos, and wants every toy on every commercial.
Odin (7y) is in first grade and learning to read. He is still as smart as a whip with Lego’s and can build anything with them. He is still incredibly sweet, responsible, respectful, and loving and caring. He’s very polite, tends to be shy, and likes to go to school but loves recess more. He is an excellent defender(lameposition) in soccer(girlsport) which is the same position his mother played(toldya). Odin is an outstanding person, never a bad word, never a bad report, always courteous, and just fun to be around.
Gilligan (8?) and Skipper (8?) are still alive --– weird, huh? The tumor’s gotten bigger on Skipper, but what are you gonna do, take him to a vet again? Gilligan is fatter than he is long due to Drake droppings. Skipper smells like ass and lawn mushrooms all the time. I still pet, kick, and kiss them as appropriate or needed. I still say they would serve us better as a meal one day, but Gwen keeps buying store bought chicken.
Gwen has a tough life. She runs this household which includes the cooking, cleaning, laundry, dishes, shopping, and many more. We’ve recently purchased a rental home at the same time when she started a new job and she manages both well. She nurturers Drake, runs play dates for Cyrus and Odin, runs the boys to extracurricular activities, holds a 30 hour a week job, and still makes time for me. She has charts, calendars, lists, and other knickknacks that track the various activities and appointments she must keep to continually raise her children effectively. She works in the kids classroom to be a part of their education and she teaches them after school how to read and do math. There’s so much more that I am probably forgetting on this list, but she never forgets me during any part of this list. This doesn’t have a lot to do with a Christmas newsletter, it’s just Gwen everyday. She’s Supermom, and a super person. Most of you see her and talk to her, but you’d never realize how much stress she’s under, or how much effort she gives, but you get to experience how much love she puts into her family and shows to her family and friends. I’ll say it again, she’s all that and a bag of chips --and she’s still totally hot.
I’m narcissistic when it
comes to me, because it’s always about me. I’m also redundantly redundant. I’m
still with Cisco and I started my twelve weeks sabbatical just before Thanksgiving
and promptly broke my left arm while dirt bike riding on the dunes in
No Christmas newsletter is complete without some health related problem. That’s why I started these newsletters in the first place. No Christmas newsletter from me is complete without some bodily function or ailment. Earlier this year I had some pain and hardness in my junk. It wasn’t the favorable kind of pain or hardness in my junk either. Turns out I had a benign epididymal cyst which the doctor said we will just leave alone. I complained about why I couldn’t have a cyst located strategically or even surgically moved to another more favorable location on my body. What man would complain about a benign cyst located mid shaft? Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know --inappropriate for a Christmas newsletter-But you have to understand my frustration here. You go in thinking malignant tumor-I’m gonna die - but then receive good news, and you still leave disappointed in a missed opportunity. Because you can bet had that cyst been located more strategically I would’ve had T-shirts made sporting the fact. Then this Christmas newsletter would have been even more about me, and the pictures below wouldn’t be of my arm, but would be inappropriate for anyone under the age of eighteen –and they would have gotten you free rent in Port Orchard too.
Words I had to teach the Microsoft’s speech recognition: poo, frickin’, ass, lawn, pet, Supermom, E-Medex, ailment, epididymal, benign, mid, shaft, T-shirts
Merry Christmas
and happy holidays from the Myers family.
No comments:
Post a Comment