Tim Chitwood: A family holiday newsletter

Merry Christmas from the family! We've had so exciting a 2015 lately that Haz-Mat had to clean up the house, which briefly was quarantined.

Our son Booger regained consciousness Thursday and should return to outside linebacker in time for the Guacomole Bowl on Jan. 3.

Daughter Sarah Jean recently won a public service award for her volunteer work chasing homeless people out of public parks, which abruptly ended when she confronted an unkempt jogger who turned out to be a successful civil litigator, so she probably should not have hit him three times in the head with her flashlight.

Meanwhile, after losing my job because at the so-called office "holiday" party I got drunk and called my wife's brother, who's my boss, a total....

What?

My wife reminds me her brother Don also will get this in a card picturing me and her and the kids and the dog and the cat in front of a gorgeous Christmas tree she found a template for online, so....

Hey, happy holidays, Don! You worthless @#$% *&%$%!

Anyway, we’ve been having a cozy family holiday since we quit Confederate re-enacting after some guys playing Yankees took all that Sherman’s March stuff literally and insulted my wife Annie Mae’s honor and seized, slaughtered, and grilled what they thought were three of her pigs, which turned out to be livestock penned at a county fair right where some debutantes in period costume were hanging out in the designated smoking area.

I traded my replica Sharpsburg for an AR-15 and got a Kevlar vest in Victorian trim for this year’s production of “A Christmas Carol” at Solid Granite Church Falls, where an actor playing Donald Trump is Scrooge until the Ghost of Christmas Presents turns him into Ted Cruz.

Our dogs Deb and Doug are doing well, and so are the puppies, though they’re 2 years old and still think the word “No!” means urinate on the carpet. We have come to regret letting two dogs from the same litter reproduce, but we don’t believe in birth control.

We do believe in the reason for the season, Santa Claus, and over time have persuaded Sara Jean's son Snoopy that the heavily bearded homeless guy who hollers "Ho! Ho! Ho!" at his mother every morning is the real Kris Kringle.

At this stage of the presidential race, we are thrilled to see an in-your-face billionaire capitalist like Donald Trump topping the polls, because Sara Jean keeps harping on Bernie Sanders and corporate greed and income inequality and blah blah blah, and it just makes my wife and I want to watch the movie "Weekend at Bernie's" over and over because of the happy beginning.

We also are pleased to report that our parrot Annabelle Lee has quit reciting the Edgar Alan Poe poem we taught it, ever since we starting blowing holes in the wall next to it with a shotgun every time it said "Nevermore."

So in conclusion, we again want to say "Merry Christmas" and "God Bless America" if you live in Harris County, and "whatever" if you live somewhere else.

Especially you Don, you sorry &%amp;!

Tim Chitwood, tchitwood@ledger-enquirer.com, 706-571-8508.

This story was originally published December 20, 2015 at 10:31 PM with the headline "Tim Chitwood: A family holiday newsletter ."