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Christmas Mirth
(Playing ~ "Carol of the Bells")

 

 

Our Annual Christmas Letter

Dear Friends ~

We have had a busy, busy year, and absolutely no time is busier in the Welloff household
than Christmastime. But you know me. 'Though I'm up to my ears in the social whirl,
I'm simply never too busy to write my annual Christmas letter. I know you would be
sorely disappointed not to know what we busy, busy folks have been up to ~ and to hear
of our great accomplishments and honors ! Wow, it astounds even me !

Well, wouldn't you know, Billy Joe ("Bubba," natch, to family and close friends)
was promoted again this year; this time to Vice President of Operations for his firm,
both here and abroad. (I don't have to tell you he got another really huge increase in salary!)
And, honor of all honors, he was named to receive the coveted "Bubba of the Year Award"
for the South. As if that in itself was not enough, Jeff Foxworthy himself came to bestow
the honors! When I threw a big dinner party in Jeff's honor, and invited many important
VIPs in our town, he could hardly socialize for talking about our house. He found it
astonishingly beautiful and could hardly believe that I had personally done all the decorating.
(But, you know me, why waste this much talent, now I ask you!)

Our daughter, Sally Ann, continues to amaze and delight this mother's heart. I'm sure you
saw her picture in all the papers after she won the last beauty and talent pageant.
She is also considering accepting the Rhodes Scholar she has just been awarded. But,
let's face it, she doesn't want to be a "pig," and she's won just about every honor
out there! And, besides, she has just become engaged to the best catch on campus.
From what I hear, her future in-laws are delighted their son is marrying into our family.
(Who wouldn't be!) John Ed, her intended, will finish law school and enter his father's
firm where he will be able to keep our little Sally Ann in high style.

Son Jim Bob, his wife Liza June, and our pride and joy little Becky Jo, will be away
from us for a couple of years. Jim Bob was asked to accept a post in Switzerland to
oversee the opening of his firm's new office because of his exceptional leadership skills
and his command of several foreign languages. They are all delighted since this is a
wonderful opportunity to engage in their favorite sport ~ skiing. You know, they met
while training for the Olympics. Since Jim Bob won the Gold in the men's division,
it was heart-breaking for Liza June to win only the Silver in the women's ~ and all
because of that unfortunate cramp in her leg. Little Becky Jo is looking forward
to this new adventure. With an IQ as high as hers, it is hard to keep her challenged.

And then, of course, there's little ole me. Well, what haven't I done this year!
You know already that I personally decorated our new home. But, did I mention that
I worked with the architect and gave him many pointers which he said will help him in his work?
My garden is a dream come true, and it supplies me with fresh flowers for our home each day.
My lands, I wouldn't be caught dead with plastic or silk ones. I'm again teaching Calligraphy
at our community college. In case you didn't know, Calligraphy means "beautiful writing."
Now who would be better qualified than I, I ask you! My publisher is imploring me to
commit to writing a book about my memories, interests, outlook on life and to illustrate
with my own artwork. I still find time to put delicious, nutritious meals on the table ~
you know my reputation as a gourmet cook.

Let us hear from you ~ you hear now! I learned that some of you moved
and forgot to give us your new address. A shame. Don't you know I can't
write you every year about our wonderful and exciting lives if
I don't have your correct address!

Merry Christmas,
Betty Sue Welloff
~ copyright © csh (original with me)

(With apologies to my friends who send annual Christmas letters. If you
send them, I read them and like them. I might even do it myself one day!)

~~~

Mom's Night Before Christmas

It was the night before Christmas, when all thru the abode
Only one creature was stirring, and she was cleaning the commode.
The children were finally sleeping, all snug in their beds,
While visions of Nintendo 64 and Barbie,
flipped through their heads.

The dad was snoring in front of the TV,
With a half-constructed bicycle on his knee.
So only the mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
Which made her sigh, "Now what's the matter?"

With toilet bowl brush still clutched in her hand,
She descended the stairs, and saw the old man.
He was covered with ashes and soot, which fell with a shrug.
"Oh great," muttered the mom, "Now I have to clean the rug."

"Ho-ho-ho!" cried Santa, "I'm glad you're awake."
"Your gift was especially difficult to make."
"Thanks, Santa, but all I want is some time alone."
"Exactly!" he chuckled, "I've made you a clone."

"A clone?" she asked, "What good is that?
Run along, Santa, I've no time for chit-chat."
The mother's twin. Same hair, same eyes,
Same double chin. "She'll cook, she'll dust,

She'll mop every mess. You'll relax, take it easy,
Watch The Young & the Restless."
"Fantastic!" the mom cheered. "My dream come true!
I'll shop. I'll read., I'll sleep a whole night through! "

From the room above, the youngest began to fret.
"Mommy?! I scared... and I 'm wet."
The clone replied, "I'm coming, sweetheart."
"Hey," the mom smiled, "She knows her part."

The clone changed the small one, and hummed a tune,
as she bundled the child, in a blanket cocoon.
"You the best mommy ever. I really love you."
The clone smiled and sighed, "I love you, too."

The mom frowned and said, "Sorry, Santa, no deal.
That's my child's love she's trying to steal."
Smiling wisely Santa said, "To me it is clear,
Only one loving mother is needed here."

The mom kissed her child, and tucked her into bed.
"Thank you, Santa, for clearing my head.
I sometimes forget, it won't be very long,
When they'll be too old, for my cradle-song."

The clock on the mantle began to chime.
Santa whispered to the clone, "It works every time."
With the clone by his side Santa said, "Goodnight.
Merry Christmas, Mom, You'll be all right."

Jest 'Fore Christmas

Father calls me William, sister calls me Will,
Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill!
Mighty glad I ain't a girl ~ ruther be a boy,
Without them sashes, curls, an' things that's worn by Fauntleroy!
Love to chawnk green apples an' go swimmin' in the lake ~
Hate to take the castor-ile they give for bellyache!
'Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no flies on me,
But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be!

Got a yeller dog named Sport, sic him on the cat;
First thing she knows she doesn't know where she is at!
Got a clipper sled, an' when us kids goes out to slide,
'Long comes the grocery cart, an' we all hook a ride!
But sometimes when the grocery man is worrited an' cross,
He reaches at us with his whip, an' larrups up his hoss,
An' then I laff an' holler, "Oh, ye never teched me!"
But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be!

Gran'ma says she hopes that when I git to be a man,
I'll be a missionarer like her oldest brother, Dan,
As was et up by the cannibuls that lives in Ceylon's Isle,
Where every prospeck pleases, an' only man is vile!
But gran'ma she has never been to see a Wild West show,
Nor read the Life of Daniel Boone, or else I guess she'd know
That Buff'lo Bill an' cowboys is good enough for me!
Excep' jest 'fore Christmas, when I'm good as I kin be!

And then old Sport he hangs around, so solemnlike an' still,
His eyes they seem a-sayin': "What's the matter, little Bill?"
The old cat sneaks down off her perch an' wonders what's become
Of them two enemies of hern that used to make things hum!
But I am so perlite an' tend so earnestly to biz,
That mother says to father: "How improved our Willie is!"
But father, havin' been a boy hisself, suspicions me
When, jest 'fore Christmas, I'm as good as I kin be!

For Christmas, with its lots an' lots of candies, cakes, an'toys,
Was made, they say, for proper kids an' not for naughty boys;
So wash yer face an' bresh yer hair, an' mind yer p's and q's,
An' don't bust out yer pantaloons, and don't wear out yer shoes;
Say "Yessum" to the ladies, and "Yessur" to the men,
An' when they's company, don't pass yer plate for pie again;
But, thinkin' of the things yer'd like to see upon that tree,
Jest 'fore Christmas be as good as yer kin be!  

~ by Eugene Field 

~~~

Three Wise Women ?

Do you know what would have happened
If it had been Three Wise Women
Instead of Three Wise Men?

They would have asked directions,
Arrived on time,
Helped deliver the baby,
Cleaned the stable,
Made a casserole,
Brought practical gifts and
There would be Peace On Earth.

 

 

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