So it’s Christmas card season. I’m mostly OK with that. I have to do something to acknowledge the holidays as well as renew acquaintences with people I have pretty much forgotten about during the past 11 months.
Of course one problem I have (and this is sexual in nature) is that I am a guy. This means that I usually put off shopping for Christmas cards until December when I am in a store buying something really vital (like beer) and while distracted by bright, shiny Xmas objects a random brain cell fires off the message, “Hey, maybe you should try to grab some Xmas cards!”
Of course I immediately lose that thought when I see a display of stuff which has “AS ADVERTISED ON TV!” over it and have to go and check THAT out. So I don’t think about Xmas cards again until my sister sends me a really clever card that reminds me I need to get busy with the Christmas card thing, but by then all the really clever ones are gone and I’m forced into the bargain rack at Shopko or Kmart.
So this year the bargain card du jour was a cute kitten sitting in a cranberry wreath ( although frankly said kitten looked a bit Photoshopped) but, hey, I wasn’t complaining.
Of course I couldn’t just send this cloying cute card out without injecting a bit of my own humor into it. So the heartfelt Christmas message I inscribed on each was, “CUTE KITTEN AT CENTER OF XMAS PHOTO SHOOT ROYALTY DISPUTE MURDER! CLAIMS PISTOL WAS PLACED UNDER PAW AFTER WILD NIGHT OF SEX AND DRUGS! `THE DOG DID IT!’ KITTY CLAIMS AT BAIL HEARING!”
This bit went over fairly well, but also caused an unexpected moral dilemma.
This was due to a recently-arrived card from my friends Bill and Joanna who live way over in New Mexico.
Their card bears the following message:
“Thanks for the cute X-mas cat card…Bill & I just got back from Rome, Italy – amazing trip! And we also got to see Pompeii!”
Now while I love Bill and Joanna, I also now hate them.
This has to do with them being in sunny Italy the past few weeks drinking wine, eating cheese and generally hanging out while the rest of us have had to deal with work, arctic cold, snow, ice and cars turning into 2,000-pound hockey pucks at random moments during our morning commute.
Fortunately, I have resolved how to deal with this.
It involves both revenge and holiday cheer.
I am going to send them a fruitcake.