Happy New Year (aka Our Family Christmas Letter – Volume 9).

Disclaimer: I have always taken pride in my ability to be on time for pretty much everything in my life, so I am slightly embarrassed that my Christmas Letter is now a New Year’s Letter. But you’ll have to excuse me. It’s been a rough year. When you read the following, pretend Christmas wasn’t yesterday one two weeks ago.

In case you were wondering how 2022 was in our household, let me just say when I look back on it, I am reminded of that time when I was twelve years old and a neighborhood boy shoved a stick in the spoke of my bike tire while I was riding it. But more on that later.

This was the first full year that things seemed to get back to normal since the pandemic. Although I’m glad it’s over, some really good things were brought about because of it. Working from home, Jehovah’s Witnesses keeping their distance, and online shopping to name a few.

I know you think you have singlehandedly kept Amazon in business but you would be wrong. It was us. I can prove it because we have built a second home in Barbados with the cardboard boxes.

Our only child got engaged over the summer. Planning a wedding is tons of fun until you realize that everything you might buy for a backyard BBQ has been increased by 1000% in price just because you call it a “wedding.” I realize it may be too late for me, but I might try to change professions. If I’m successful, I’ll be able to laminate our vacation home.

We love our future son-in-law and are so happy to have him be officially part of our little family. I have always wanted a son. Except this is way better. We didn’t have to pay for his college.

Dear Husband hasn’t had the best year. He crashed his beloved sports car this past spring and has had a bit of an unplanned hiccup regarding his health. Then instead of increasing his health insurance he bought a new sports car. This car is not just any car. This car makes him happy. Happier than I make him I’m afraid. But it’s ok. I mean, it does go zero to sixty in 4.5 seconds. I haven’t been able to do that since 1998.

As for me, I’ve declared that I’m falling apart. I finally broke down and had the rotator cuff surgery I’ve been putting off for years. It’s my dominant arm and the recuperation is really not going well. Brushing my teeth with my right hand is like using my feet. That were transplanted from a monkey. Who lost the use of his toes in a jungle incident involving a giraffe.

I added two medications to my daily routine of Pepcid, Vitamin D, and probiotics. They are called “statin” and “estrogen.” And I thought having children ages you? Cholesterol drugs, hormone therapy, joint repair, in addition to kids makes a cocktail you don’t want to ever mix, yet here I am.

I had a great year of really taking care of myself. I lost close to fifteen pounds and started exercising six days a week. Then I had the surgery that rendered me useless which, in turn, has reversed all my hard work. My left arm may be mimicking that of a maimed monkey but I’m not sure what my legs’ problem is. Sympathy pains, I suppose.

I have really been feeling pretty badly about things of late until I saw a port-a-potty flipped on its side in someone’s yard on my way home from getting my shingles vaccine today. The grass is always greener…

I’m sure I’m missing something but at this rate, if I remember anything else I’m afraid you may have to add Zoloft to the mix and I just don’t have the room in my pill box.

So, with that I will end this by saying I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year, my friends. If you happen to take a trip to the jungle don’t get into any fights with a giraffe.