As 2016 draws to a close, we gird our loins for the onslaught of political cartoons decrying the "War on Christmas" while white people on Fox News explain to us that Santa and Jesus were absolutely also white people. This year we have the added joy of wondering if the expression "Feliz Navidad" should make us happy because Jesus (possibly Hay-zeus-do you know the guy?), or sad because Spanish (Build! A! Wall! or some shit).
We can all agree that 2016 was kind of a crap year, in that tons of celebrities kicked off and we had to endure one of the longest election cycles that ever cycled. Prince and Bowie? Not fair, Universe. At least Betty White and RBG are still with us. Dear little baby Hay-zeus, let them make the year.
Nevertheless, time ticks forward and our lives go on. This year Amy learned how to feed herself appropriately, picked up some new gym skillz, and passed her 9th anniversary with her current employer. She also heard the good news about our Lady and Savior Lululemon, even making a pilgrimage to one of their temples to offer her paycheck on the alter of high waisted leggings.
We are becoming concerned for her.
Amy also decided that growing her hair out was unbearable and required something to alleviate the associated disgust with her shitty brunette meth-addict-esque locks. The results have probably ruined the master bathroom shower forever, but her family humors these flights of colorful fancy because she works hard to keep them in the style to which they've become accustomed and also she gets mean when antagonized.
All the colors. All of them.
Mr. Amy continues to be a worthy, steadfast partner and exemplary father. He looks the other way when another new shipment of leggings arrives, and appeases Amy with offerings of bumper plates and talk of pull-up bars and folding squat racks. He is the kindest, most loving, most wonderful husband who ever husbanded. He also cooks and has exceptional legs. Still no toilet scrubbing, but it's not like Amy does much of that either, and she's willing to overlook it as Mr. Amy has a number of other valuable skills.
2016 was The Zs 10th wedding anniversary, which they marked with a trip to a nude beach in St. Martin. Like you do.
10 years!
They also managed to ditch their children long enough to spend a week in Hawai'i. What a couple of lucky sons-of-bitches.
Don't you hate them?
The Z children continue to be extremely loud and irritating. As their bodies continue to grow, the volume level continues to increase until they drive their parents insane. Mostly their father as their mother can create a cone of silence so dense the children start to wonder if they still exist.
L is now a whopping 9.5 years old and excels at eye rolling, sighing, and telling Amy that she knows, Mom. While simultaneously being unable to choose clothes without holes or remember where she left her shoes. She continues to eschew jeans in favor of leggings. Amy realized this year that her daughter may have been a genius all along. She also continues to half-heartedly participate in CrossFit Kids even though it makes her "very tired". Also this year L has acquired the ability to fold her own laundry and make jelly sandwiches, though not at the same time.
P&C have attained the ripe old age of 6.5 and are still unemployed. Amy has considered obtaining a second job in order to keep the family in milk and meat as both boys consume their weight in beef roughly every 2 weeks. This is a particularly amazing feat considering that everything placed in front of C has something objectionable in it. The boys have also mastered the art of laundry folding and sandwich making, and as soon as P is tall enough Amy will show him how to work the washing machine and she will be FREE AT LAST, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!
P retains his amazing hairstyle, in spite of taunts from classmates and pressure from his extended family. He has decided that his hair is awesome (he's right), the people who don't like it are just jealous (also right), and that when he's done with long hair he would like to donate it.
What a sweet little badass.
C has decided to cut his fauxhawk because "fauxhawks are itchy". The different haircuts make it easy for friends and family alike to tell the boys apart at a glance. Which Amy finds funny because they don't look all that much alike even with the same haircut.
P&C continue to enthusiastically participate in CF Kids, excelling at skills that elude their mother like upright squats, strict toes-to-bar, and pull-ups. Both boys can be convinced to eat extra vegetables by invoking the phrase "Window of gains, brah".
All three children have exceptional memories, especially as pertains to wrongs done to them, injuries minor and major, and every verbal slight every child they've ever met has subjected them to. Sadly this incredible recall power does not extend to the location of mittens, hats, scarves, brand new sweatshirts, or library books. It does, however, extend to Bruno Mars lyrics...much to the consternation of their mother.
Look at these angel babies. They're all heavily drugged. I kid. I don't.
In all, the Z family is grateful to remain car crash, cast, and surgery-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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