Dear Friends,
2011 has been a lucky year for us. For the first time in over a decade, we can afford to buy postage stamps. If Obama is the angel of joblessness, then I’m glad he has decided to pass over our house. Thankfully John and I are continuing to make just enough to keep us slightly above poverty level. For now, the only form of assistance we receive is a modest daycare scholarship for Max. Now instead of $500 a month for three full days, we now only pay $400. I guess you could say we’re living the lower, middle-class dream.
Speaking of daycare, Max started attending this past September. So far, it’s been a mixed bag. It’s really nice having him destroy a foreign environment as opposed to hiring someone to come in destroy mine. The tradeoff has been a never-ending series of colds since September. The latest version won him an overnight stay at Fairview Hospital.
As socially stimulating as daycare has been for him, his verbal skills are still lagging. His classmates don’t know what to make of his grunts, but they sure know how to get out of his way when he brings out his hitting hands. When his teachers asked me how we disciplined him at home, I said with a wink, “We hit him back.” I had a lot of education classes in college—I’m no dummy.
Kenny started kindergarten this fall, and much to my relief, he seems to really like it. Helping the situation, I’m sure, is his pretty kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Freda. So far she hasn’t seemed to mind his blatant refusal to wear underwear. Also working to our advantage is his newfound classroom shyness. Yes, we’ve really lucked out.
Earlier this November, Sam shot his first doe and we now are the proud owners of a freezer full of venison. At least it’s not opossum or squirrel. So far he says his favorite meal is spaghetti and deer balls.
Madison, now a freshman, has quite the impressive Christmas wish list this year. Most of all, he wants a stab resistant vest. High school must be rough these days. Though I still don’t know what he wants with the gas mask and a radiation jumpsuit that John and I managed to find for him, I must draw the line with the vest.
Stancey recently turned sweet sixteen. She’s itching to get her driver’s license, providing she can eventually pass the pesky temps test. To her defense, why does she need to know the various penalties for driving under the influence? Isn’t it enough that she’s aware not to do it?
Finally, Mayle has temporarily moved back home to live in the basement. This time she brought along her boyfriend Wes and her cat Grilled Cheese. While it’s nice having all my chicks back under my ever-expanding wing, I do have somewhat of an issue with the cat. He likes to poop under Madison’s bed. My house has this complex mingling of scents: Christmas tree pine, Scentsy cinnamon and cloves, and a slight undertone of cat feces.
Yes, friends, life is indeed good. If 2012 follows in much the same way, I’ll have plenty of material to write about. Please feel free to drop by our humble home and partake in holiday cheer. Max will leave a chocolate on the toilet seat for you, and now that the kids are on winter break, they’ll always be someone awake to greet you. Sam can even set aside a plate of deer balls. Just keep in mind we're now a family of nine with only one bathroom.
We'll leave the light on.
No comments:
Post a Comment