The Blonde Egyptian

I'm going to tell you all a little bedtime story this evening.... Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, lived Santa Clause and his little wife who was not old. Together, they had an adorable little elf prince who had great hearing but only during the months of September and December because those are the only two months a year that the little elf got presents of his own. So all year long Mrs. Clause would think and plan, scheme and plan, work her cookie lovin' butt off to plan the most perfect gifts for Santa, the little elf and her family. Santa's parents lived in Egypt because they hated the cold. So they didn't need presents or even celebrate Christmas. *Gasp* The horror. I know.  Anyway, during the month of December, Mrs. Clause, who could also work for the FBI is on her A game, hiding toys that came from special elves at Headquarters (aka Amazon), planning, preparing and CONSTANTLY SHUSHING SANTA'S big, fat, Ho HO Ho mouth because, I'll let

I'd like to start by saying that my intentions for this Christmas letter were to get them printed on nice, red paper and stuffed into beautiful cards that I did in fact buy. But, they've laid on my kitchen "pile everything here until we get to it/M's 1000 piece puzzle" table so long that I'm just going to use them to start my garden for next year, which I'll undoubtedly end up killing off by March anyway due to pure neglect. My intentions were also to write a beautifully well scripted letter showcasing how incredibly blissful our life is and how the many accomplishments we've made this year have made each of us the most grateful, humble and generous humans that God could've ever imagined for us to be. But I think we all know better. I've never been good at sugar coating anything and if you know me at all, you know that 2017 has been The Texas Titan's Grandaddy of a shitshow for us and our motto on the daily is "just make it through.&