Posts
Well, if you've followed me long enough, you know that while I love to laugh with [AT] other people sometimes, I only allow myself to do this if I make fun of myself [or my absolutely insane family] just the same.
Unfortunately, this has become a little too easy for me these days. But for those of you who think I'm an awful human being to post about my husband's hobby of photographing a gross cushion that's been hanging over the front porch of his ex-wife's house for over 5 months now [we are entering 3rd season here people], I feel guilty enough about it to share the following pictures with you for personal retribution.
I know Christmas is over, but while cleaning out my home office bench which of course opens up for accessible storage [CLUTTER] , I found the letter my oldest daughter left for Santa on the fireplace mantle just this past Christmas Eve. As a warning, I would like to describe it to you in one simple word:
Unfortunately, this has become a little too easy for me these days. But for those of you who think I'm an awful human being to post about my husband's hobby of photographing a gross cushion that's been hanging over the front porch of his ex-wife's house for over 5 months now [we are entering 3rd season here people], I feel guilty enough about it to share the following pictures with you for personal retribution.
I know Christmas is over, but while cleaning out my home office bench which of course opens up for accessible storage [CLUTTER] , I found the letter my oldest daughter left for Santa on the fireplace mantle just this past Christmas Eve. As a warning, I would like to describe it to you in one simple word:
Ghetto.
Here it is:
OK, several points I would like to make:
1. Christmas is my absolute favorite holiday. My house is painted in dark reds, rustic oranges, and deep forest greens because I love the feel of my home decorated from the time Halloween approaches, through Fall and then into and beyond Christmas.
2. The poor writer of the above note was so rushed to bed that night that she grabbed a pharmaceutical pad to write her beloved Santa letter asking if this was the year she would be receiving the dog she's wanted since she was 7 days old.
3. I take the time to customize photo collage customized Christmas cards by the end of October each year, yet I can not provide my daughter a white piece of paper or better yet a piece of holiday stationery for her personal Dear Santa letter?
4. Santa's response is just out right shabby. Better yet, it's nothing other than GHETTO. Take a better look:
Santa somehow thought it was amusing [or was running late and drank just a little too much wine that night...okay, WAY TOO MUCH WINE that night] to have any empathy for the little girl sleeping upstairs hoping and praying for a puppy that would never be. And all he could do was circle "NO" and write "Work harder at home."
I'm going to have to open a can of whoop ass if I ever meet Santa face to face. How dare he.
PS...I'll be keeping these forever.
Now head on over to Candid Carrie's to check out, or better yet join in, on Foto Friday!
