APU Blogs

Writing the Dreaded Christmas Letter

On balance, Christmas is a great time of year.  There are, however, certain things I dread about the season.  Knowing that I will hear the Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons version of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” at least twenty-five times between Halloween and Christmas Day makes me break out in hives.  Trying to buy a useful and thoughtful gift for my wife, who insists that she is easy to buy for but never gives me any gift ideas, is a major holiday stress point.  I won’t even start on going to the mall to find those elusive useful and thoughtful gifts.  If you are one of those people who finds the mall fun and exciting, I hate to say this, but there’s something seriously wrong with you.  I just don’t get it.

Still, in the face of such stiff competition, none of the above generates the level of dread that I experience when it comes to writing “the Christmas letter.”  Of course, some of you are asking, “If you hate writing the Christmas letter, why do it?”  Such a question reveals sheer theological ignorance.  The obligation for each family unit to produce a Christmas letter is part of the expulsion of humanity from the Garden of Eden following the First Sin.  Implicit in the curse pertaining to pain in childbirth is an annual letter bragging about the accomplishments of the offspring representing the fruit of that pain.  Granted, this rule is based on the same logic that allows brilliant legal minds to find the right to abortion in a constitutional article prohibiting illegal searches and seizures, but it’s the rule nonetheless.

Apparently, there’s another rule that the one who suffers pain in childbirth gets to choose who writes the Christmas letter.  My wife chooses me.  Just for the record, this really isn’t fair in our situation.  Both our kids are adopted, so my wife kind of skirted around the “pain in childbirth” thing.  Technically, then, our children’s biological parents should be writing our family Christmas letter.  I’m not sure how well that would work.  I’m just trying to picture our family and friends receiving an envelope containing our Christmas card and two Christmas letters, one in Chinese from my daughter’s biological parents and the other in Korean from my son’s.

OK, this is getting a bit weird, so let’s get back to the Christmas letter that I’ll have to write—eventually.  My wife’s justification for dumping the letter writing duties is pretty simple:  she is convinced that if I can write books, a Christmas letter should be a proverbial piece of cake.

The problem really isn’t writing a Christmas letter.  That’s easy.  The problem is that the entire genre is a confused mess to begin with.  A good Christmas letter is a bit like a romantic limerick.  It just doesn’t exist.  The only option that seems open is the traditional, “our kids (later in life, grandkids) are better looking/smarter/more talented/more athletic than yours” missive.  Even though it’s true in our case, no one really believes it because everyone else is writing the same thing.  I’m sure you understand my dilemma.

I’ve got a plan, though.  Since Christmas letter writing falls at the same time of year that final examinations are written, I’ll just combine the two.  It will work something like this:

Question #1 – Fill in the blank

Our vacation to                          was terrific.  (Our credit card company is keenly aware of where we went on vacation, so if you were really our friends, you would know too.)

Question #2 – Which statement is false

a.         Zoe qualified for the level 7 state gymnastics meet.

b.         Zack was asked to be on an all-star soccer team.

c.         Debra’s business is going well.

d.         Steve’s most recent book, “The Original Dr. Steve’s Almanac of Christian Trivia (which by the way, would make a terrific Christmas gift for those hard-to-buy-for people on your shopping list), is taking the publishing world by storm.

Question #3 – Essay

Explain why 2007 was the best year yet for the Wilkens family, giving no less than three examples for each family member (including Mickey, the basset hound).

Bonus Question

Write my wife a letter explaining why I should never be allowed (required) to write the Christmas letter again.  (If successful, you will not only receive an A for this course, but I’ll see what I can do about that chemistry grade.)

You and I know that there’s no way I’m going to get by with this.  In the end, I’ll put on my Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons Christmas CD, grit my teeth, write the letter, and hope that no one holds it against me.  With any luck, no one will read it.  Kind of like my books.

For now, though, writing the Christmas letter will have to wait.  I’m off to my daughter’s soccer playoff game.  If nothing else, I’ve got something else to put in the Christmas letter if they win.