Dear Family, Friends, and Random Internet Pervs
2014 is drawing to a close, and it's time for Fox News to start bitching and moaning about an imaginary war on the most ubiquitous holiday known to humankind. That means it's also time for that most sacred of holiday traditions: The Solstice Letter. Written entirely in the third person as though being reported by a downtrodden, out of work journalist. Hey, print journalism is a dying art and if you live by the pen you take work where you can get it. Keep it quiet, Judgy McJudgealot.
This year brought big changes for Amy. Though she continues to be a pharmacist, she made the daring decision to go back to a job she held for 5 years in the recent past even though this means a longer commute. The extra 3 miles round trip takes a lot of precious time away from her loving husband and children, but in the end it's worth it as they are mostly sleeping when she's commuting and she doesn't like them much anyway.
Amy continued in her commitment to fitness by running a shitload of unlogged miles, doing a shitload of races, and drinking a tankerfull of post-race beers. She also half-assed some CrossFit, made a fool of herself at yoga, blogged about 100 days of good food, and then fell off the wagon over and over and over again. She made several attempts at lifestyle changes, but remains slightly fat and unmotivated, with no change in sight.
Mr. Amy remains a loving, supportive spouse and excellent father. That is all that will be said as Mr. Amy is a strong individual with a certain skill set and knowledge of places to hide bodies.
The children continue to excel at important skills like whining, bitching, misery making, and handprint related art. All three continue to eat enormous amounts of food while simultaneously expressing dissatisfaction with everything placed in front of them. The girl child has refined her devil-may-care fashion sense into a cohesive philosophy that her parents have come to call "homeless clown chic". To that end, several pairs of truly alarming leggings have been purchased for said girl child and sneaked into her dresser. Amy anticipates the day girl child locates the donuts-cookies-and-kittens leggings with unbridled glee.
The boy children remain unemployed in spite of reaching the advanced age of 4-and-three-quarters. They still brazenly expect frequent meals, clean laundry, and assistance with basic hygiene. Both boys have begun to display a love of music and song, in the form of "Sweet Home Alabama", "Let It Go" and that fucking "It's Friday" song from YouTube. They have also developed their father's knack for breaking into song while in the car whenever Amy's current radio favorite is on. They have not yet been tested to determine their status as identical or fraternal twins-a fact which continues to create anger and confusion in the general populace.
The Z family is grateful to remain basically healthy and tragedy free for one more revolution of the Earth around the Sun. May the lengthening days bring light to your mind and warmth to your heart.
Happy Whatever-the-Fuck-Holiday-You-Celebrate
The Zs
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