A Christmas Letter

This is where I'm going to brag about how good everything is in my life, in my kids' lives, and in my world.

Uh, no it's not.

I'm sitting there on Christmas eve about midnight in my new cashmere robe. I love cashmere robes, but I wonder if my husband buys them for me because he's trying to kill me.

See, he knows that they are so comfortable to me that I might never go out of the house again. The robe takes away any desire I've ever had to dress. Why dress when you can sit there in a cashmere robe all day?

If I never leave the house, I won't get any exercise at all. None. I will probably get very fat and my arteries will swell or whatever. I will get very sluggish and my skin will get pasty. Even my dogs will get sluggish and pasty from staying inside with me all the time.

My husband may think he's being clever, but I'm on to him.

Merry Christmas to all of you!