Christmas Cards on Steroids

At Thanksgiving dinner the topic of Facebook came up and its
relative merits. And it sort of dawned on me that Facebook is kind of like Christmas cards on steroids. Sometimes comments are funny, sad, pithy, and/or longwinded, but almost always come with a bit of cheese on the side. That said, I like getting Christmas cards because the update I get from my friends or family is
just once a year. And at the risk of being defriended by some on facebook, it
is not the every five minute update to let me know Johnny just scored a goal,
or what they had for breakfast that day isn’t agreeing with them. Really
people, can you please consider that moment right before you press send whether
anybody else will care about your comment other than Grandma….who probably
isn’t even on facebook.  Because this time suck dribble is encroaching on my additional passion…Pinteresting!

Christmas cards are a whole different kind of nonsense blather. My husband’s family and I have made a game out of it at our Christmas dinner gathering. We have created a point system for all the cards we received that calculates them on their relative cheese factor. You get high points for things like, was it written in third person? Did one of the family pets write it on your behalf…with extra points added when they use words like purrrfect. Did anyone break a bone, flunk out of college, get arrested, or knocked up (big points there).

Every year we make a huge deal in my family when we receive
my dad’s Christmas card. My husband makes a fire, I grab a glass of wine and
place the bottle right next to it, we dim the lights, and one of my sons reads
it out loud. Yes, it is usually written by one of the pets, and yes he scores
very high on our Christmas card cheese game which usually helps tip the scales
in my favor. After the reading of the Papadon Christmas Letter has been
ceremonially performed we then grab the highlighter and mark who got top
billing. That person is deemed the “Golden Child” of that year and typically it
is me. And I envision with glee my three brothers rolling their eyes at me yet
again as they read their copies of “The Papadon Christmas Letter”. None of us
have really achieved or done anything noteworthy, but you wouldn’t get that in
his tone. You sense a man proud of his children and grandchildren.  He makes it sound like his granddaughter is the next Mia Hamm, and that surfing should be an Olympic sport so that his grandson could win the gold medal. He would laugh at me, but I confess that getting my dad’s Christmas letter is one of my most anticipated and cherished gifts I receive each year. It is a hardcopy of his presence in my life, with all of its cheesy comments, love, and cherished simple life moments all “barked” at me by the family dog. Did I mention they always come with a cut out “Pickles” cartoon…that gets me huge bonus points. Thanks Dad.

The grateful Grinch,

Donna Wilson