Days – nigh, weeks – have
passed since you began your daily anticipatory trudges to the increasingly
irrelevant U.S. Postal service box that sits atop your
driveway/sidewalk/doorstep. Each day prior to this one, your trek was met with
the disappointing consolation prize of somebody else's Christmas letter. Or a
card. Even lamentable photo postcards of household pets wearing sweaters – as
if purposefully intended to torment you.
But today. Today
was different. Finally. In your hands you beheld the familiar freebie
promotional return address labels the Morrow family uses for one purpose and
one purpose only. Today, in eager anticipation your trembling hands
pierced the cheap and likely toxic adhesive of dime-store Christmas Card
envelopes - adhesive that stood only briefly between you and what you hoped –
nay, dreamed – awaited you inside. A solitary poignant tear escapes your eye as
you behold: The Christmas Cheer. The Envelope of Happy. Your long-anticipated
annual yuletide snarkfest known to longtime recipients as the “MFCL.” It's
The 2012 Morrow Family Christmas Letter!
You might have noticed an (even for us) overly-indulgent introduction to the MFCL that masks a cold hard truth: the theme of the 2013 tome is a noticeable decline in sophistication. You likely thought that impossible. But if you've learned anything from 10+ years of our Christmas letters, it's this: never underestimate our capacity to under-deliver. Read on if you dare.
While our Christmas manifesto once dripped with clever and witty (or so we keep calling them) references to global and political happenings in the world around us... the world around the Morrows is changing. Matt has accepted a new position as Executive Vice President of the Greater Birmingham Association of Home Builders. So, the Morrows are moving to Alabama. The South. The Land of Dixie. The land of stars and bars. Of Yaller Hammers, War Eagle, Roll Tide, Duck Dynasty and Honey Boo Boo. So, change is afoot with the MFCL too. Don't be surprised to see a subtle shift in our Christmas rhetorical discourse toward colorful talk of five-pound squirrels, frog legs, moon pies and such.
We anticipate the MFCL will not be all that is affected by the move. In her natural habitat, eight-year-old Annie loves American Girl (her head nearly exploded with excitement when she took her first trip to an official store this year). She was named Most Valuable Tiger for her third grade class at Willard South. She won her class city council election in a landslide after promising 47% of classmates they could never study again, and still be guaranteed a lifetime of Bs. She aspires to be a librarian, and sends away all visitors to our home with a good borrowed book and a hard due date. But library work is for suckers. And Missourians. We now anticipate the day she will announce her promising future in competitive hillbilly hand-fishing. She began orthodontic work this year by getting a retainer. We are unsure whether straight teeth (or any teeth) will be of much use to her in our new home. Either way, we are keeping the retainer because watching her try to talk is funny.
In Missouri, Alex is an energetic five-year-old who this year started learning to play piano. He aspires to one day be a spy or a Cardinals baseball player. He also was named Most Valuable Tiger for his kindergarten class, and says his favorite part of the school day is lunch. We celebrated his fifth birthday at Disney World, and probably took years off of his life by letting him ride the Tower of Terror. He loves bugs and reptiles. Holding an anaconda was a highlight of his year. And he still confidently believes that passing gas is his best and most natural defense against his sister's occasional aggression. Oh, and he dressed up as an awesome, straight-crazy red-eyed tree frog for Halloween. He actually may do just fine in Alabama.
Rachael will go from teaching at an institution of higher learning to learning to gig frogs with a spotlight and mastering the art of preparing (and digesting) a wide range of deep-fried delicacies. She's getting into the spirit of the move by working through a Rosetta Stone language learning series - already throwing around southern lexicon like: “You can put your boots in the oven, but that don't make 'em biscuits”, “I got too much 'Bama in me”, and “I'm gonna come at you like a spider monkey.” And don't tell her she doesn't sound convincing. 'Cause she WILL come at you like a spider monkey.
Matt has only been in Birmingham since December 1, and we can already see what can only be described as “The Southern” happening to him. He notices and points out crimson and white “A's” and elephants everywhere we go. He persistently tries to persuade Rachael that some grits really can be worth eating. And on his third day at his new job, he was taken to the sheriff's office to be deputized. No kidding. The deal is: he can have a badge and a handgun permit, but he'll have to pack his own heat. Even southern hospitality has limits.
So, yes, our lives are a little crazy right now (thanks for asking). But we wanted to take a moment from all of our craziness to briefly interrupt yours and wish you a very Merry Christmas. As we pack up our earthly belongings, we are reminded that we are all just sojourners here. Because Jesus came, we have a Way to an eternal home. One day, we will all leave this temporary earthly home and stand before Almighty God. Our prayer this Christmas is that you know Jesus as your Lord, so you too will have an eternal home with Him. We are so thankful for the many blessings God has given us, and we count each of you among them. We hope your Christmas is filled with joy, and is more fun than chuckin' rocks at a stop sign. Merry Christmas!
No comments:
Post a Comment