The Annual Letter

Dear Family and Friends:

Greetings for Christmas, Hanukkah, Festivus (Mary Lou, I'm sorry I can't remember the name of that fringe cult that sucked you in) or whatever turns your crank for celebrating the end of December. I love getting your letters and family news. You are all so engaged and blessed.

Now it's my turn. It's been a hectic year, of course, but ultimately successful. If you have already heard the highlights please accept my tardy apologies for phoning you at 4 a.m. in hysterics.

Any rumour you heard about my daughter being pregnant is simply false. Her professor did pass her thesis and the faculty is dealing with sexual harassment issues. Sophie continues to head the students' Vegan Rights committee, having proudly organized fourteen demonstrations this year. You may have seen her petition circulating on the internet. Please sign and stop wearing fur.

You are probably wondering about that accident my son was in. It was not his fault; lord knows we spent enough on driver's lessons. It's just that no one knew about the cannabis in the carrot cake. Most of the time Bobby is very conscientious about over-eating but the bullies messed up the progress he was making in cognitive behavioral therapy. His probation officer is a lovely person.

For those who need an update, my husband the media consultant was outraged at being sued for slander. The ignorant and the unwashed in this country are a real threat to free speech, never forget that. He is developing a counter-suit that will blow the lid off some phony politicians. Journalism is still the front line and best defence of freedom.

More good news. My sister Gretchen was released from the detox program. Her husband is thrilled because he doesn't know how to cook and broke their microwave. We are not supposed to tell her how much he paid for electricians after he screwed up the timers and fried all the kitchen wiring. Gretchen is planning to become a professional animal trainer ever since she saw that commercial with the dancing kangaroo.

As for me, dear friends, let me set to rest any undercurrents you may have heard about the incident last week. That woman left her shopping cart right in the middle of the disabled parking spot. It's not like I meant to pulverize her groceries but my car had a mind of its own and she had a nasty mouth on her. The police sorted it out, not before she broke my glasses and lobbed my handbag into a dumpster. Any videos you saw are fake news.

So you see, all is well and under control. Good to know: Tequila works much better than Prozac (the support group here is a real downer: sad, depressed people). Life could not be better, let's keep the cheerful news coming.

Your BFF