This was one of my letters from five or six years ago. Tell it like it is, people. It's much more fun. And yes, I sent the picture.
The good news is I
finished my Christmas newsletter early this year. The bad news is, the girls found it and were so mortified
that they stole all my copies and shredded them before I could get them out. We proceeded to have a screaming match
that ended up with me making all sorts of promises. So, here it is: I am not allowed to talk about anyone being
arrested, any phone calls from parents during sleepovers (use your
imagination), screaming hormonal teenagers, calls from the high school,
fighting with siblings, or anything that would embarrass them. That leaves me with nothin’. However, in the spirit of the Christmas
newsletter tradition, I am willing to give this a shot. Here goes…
Bitchy is 18 now, and
loves it here at home. She is the
sweetest thing you’ve ever seen.
She just loves her job at Wegmans making subs for the community at
large, loves paying for her own gas and coffee at Starbucks, and can often be
found playing board games with her sister and
brother, after they’ve helped with dishes, laundry, cleaning and running
errands for their mother. She is
having so much fun in high school, and is sad about graduating and going away
to school. In fact, she’ll
probably go to Smythe and Wesson University and live at home because she loves us so much. Sassy is also just a doll. Aren’t all 15 year-old girls the best?
She is sweet as can be, never yells at any of us for no reason, and can often
be found sharing her clothes with her sister whenever she asks, or romping in
the yard with her adorable 9 year-old brother. (They are very close.) She never yells at us, and is best
friends with her older sister. The Golden Boy just adores his sisters as well. They never pick on him, hold him down, tickle him until he cries, spit
on him, or treat him badly in front of his friends. They always go to his football games, and sometimes even go
to his practices just to see him and spend time with him.
And, when they held him down last week and told him there was no Santa,
they were just kidding. He’ll
probably stop crying real soon.
I am having a blast writing a monthly column for the
local paper, and am trying to keep up with an accompanying blog. I still love teaching kindergarten, but
am very exhausted at the end of the day, mostly from laughing, but also from
keeping 20 six-year olds from hurting each other, peeing all over the bathroom
floor and eating things off the carpet.
Well, as always, peace
and love to you all – The Smythe family
P.S. If you want to read the original letter, it’s on my blog, and
was read by over 4000 people.
(psst…don’t tell the girls)
