My dad likes to get me a gag gift every year. Last year, in a nod to National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, he printed out a page advertising a jelly-of-the-month club. This year he took note of this entry and got me a spatula from the dollar store.
My dad is a regular Jerry Lewis.
Meanwhile, my Uncle Gary, an avid reader, got me a great Christmas present:
And I'm not being sarcastic; the book combines two interests of mine: reading and running. What could be better? Unfortunately, astute readers of this blog will note that not only have I read the book, but I also met the author a few months ago and got him to sign a copy for me.
Me: you don't read my blog?
Uncle Gary: I specialize in the oral tradition.
For better or worse, a large part of my sense of humor comes from these two men. All complaints at failed attempts to be funny on this blog may be directed at them.
I spent the better part of Christmas tending to the fire, eating, talking with my sister on the phone, eating, exchanging presents, eating, reading this book, and eating.
It was a great and relaxing day.
|Dad, Debbie, me, Grandmother Partenheimer, Uncle Gary|