Another Yuletide season has arrived! We really don't need anything from your magical bag of gifts, but we'd still love for you to make your traditional stop here on December 24.
Assuming you come, heads up on our new chimney liner. The fit up and down might be tighter than last year, but at least your belt buckle shouldn't get caught again. Remember I agreed to cover your therapist bills if the claustrophobia recurs even though I suspect it may run in your family.
Unlike last year's 'smokin' hot' celebration, this year's Christmas Eve promises to be much quieter since our new gas furnace is unlikely to catch fire. When I glimpsed you at the mall recently, I was relieved to see that your beard has filled in nicely, plus you can't even notice the burn marks
on your nose. Remember to send me the bill from your burn specialist and dry cleaner.
I'm also leaving you some ear plugs in the unlikely event the smoke alarms activate and we can't shut them off even though this is totally unlikely and nothing will happen so you won't need the ear plugs nor temporarily lose your hearing this year I guarantee it. BTW, did you consult the audiologist and otolaryngologist? I haven't received any bills yet.
You'll be happy to know that I've moved the wires running from the tree to the outlet so they're no longer a tripping hazard. However, just in case I'll be supplementing the First Aid kit with a bucket of ice and the heating pad which you brought us last year, remember? That automatic shut-off feature is great, and the cord-as-tourniquet is literally a life-saver as you know. Handiest gift ever! Hey, chicks dig scars, right? Otherwise, send me the plastic surgery bills.
I've already packed away the home-made cat treats so this year there should be no confusion. But in case you need to barf again I've put up a string of Christmas lights leading to the bathroom and cleared all obstacles from the hallway. And guess what: new toilet -- no clogs and overflows this time, I promise.
You'll be sad to learn the snake died, alas, but the upside is there won't be another Pythonesque escape involving Prancer's antlers. Who would have thought a ball python could fit inside Tickle-Me-Elmo. I heard little Stevie's made great strides in therapy, plus his parents dropped the lawsuit, so glad tidings all around (except for the snake). Don't forget to send me the vet bill for Prancer's antler rash.
Finally, be assured that all weapons are safely under lock and key so there will be no repeat of last year's mistaken identity mix-up. Hey, talk about a 'claus call'! We can laugh about it now, right? Ho ho ho, right?
Look, Santa, it's been almost 12 months and we'd really like it if you canceled the restraining order. One bad experience shouldn't ruin a life-long relationship, right? We are truly sorry for a few, er, minor mishaps, but the ER staff did top-notch work and I heard you completed your route on time so things worked out in the end, and no hard feelings, right?
Christmas just won't be the same without you. Really looking forward to seeing you this year.
Ring the bells! Bring the bills.
Love,
P@
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