We interrupt your normally Cindy-free Easter with the following, important message.  Lauren was grossly dissatisfied with the state of the 2000 Christmas letter.  We barely got it printed and mailed before getting into the cab for the airport on December 19^th.  She read it over as we were driving and declared it unacceptable.

“In what way?” I asked, counting bags and wondering if the snakes’ cage had been securely latched or if we had left it open and would return home to find two very fat boas and a few less fuzzy mammals in the house.

  “You barely mention me at all this year.  You mention Jon about a million times.”

  “Jon got hit by a car.”

  “So, what?  I have to get hit by a car to get a measly mention in the Christmas letter?”

  The cab driver snorted.  She tried to cover it, but I definitely heard her snort.

  “Well.”  I was wracking my brains to recall what she did last year that would merit a mention and came up with nada.  Had we turned off the water heater?  Three weeks was a long time to have a water heater kicking on and no one using hot water.  “What did you do this year that I should have mentioned?”

“I did stuff.”

It was starting to come back to me chronologically.  Lauren had a banner year last year.  I can honestly look back on this as the year that I finally had to take responsibility for her being my kid.  The things she had done last year could be laid squarely on my doorstep.  They were the fledgling efforts of a teenager in training.  The kind of stuff that had my father laughing in glee as he handed me off to Dave chortling, “She’s your problem now son.  Enjoy.”

“Should I mention the Great Pajama Bottom rebellion?  The one where you determined that the new dress code was unacceptable and that, since no one had the foresight to mention that pajama bottoms were not part of the new code, you decided that the 6^th grade should wear them to school?  If I recall correctly, only the students recently released from jail that week followed suit and wore the pajamas.”

The cab driver snorted gain.  Could have been asthma.  Lauren glared. 

“Or should I have mentioned that you are now bitter enemies with your former best friend because she said, and I quote - You would have a lot more friends Lauren if you were a little nicer.  To which you replied – What kind of friends? At which point she pointed out that you were on the bottom of the popularity hill and she was on the top.  At which point you told her your father’s famous S&*T rolls down hill theory which resulted in a call from her mother asking me to explain the unexplainable – you.”

“Did I ask you to mention my social life?  And besides, that didn’t happen. She had issues totally unrelated to me.”  She hunched down in the back seat and started rummaging in her carry on bag.

“Can I mention that you made the honor roll all year and we sent you to Space Camp?”

“No.” She found nail polish and proceeded to fume us out of the van by doing her nails.

“Why Not?”

“Because Dad bragged that to death.”

“OK.  Your riding lessons and piano lessons are going quite well.  Can I mention that?”

“No.

“Work with me here kid.  This was not your most noteworthy year on the accomplishment boards.”

“So, what?  I have to get hit by a car?  No one in this family even cares what I do.  Squid over there is so dumb he plays in traffic and he gets an entire paragraph.  I get good grades and stay out of trouble and I get squat. What kind of lesson in life is THAT teaching me?”

Jon, accustomed to these small insults, proceeded to play with his Game Boy like the only child he believes himself to be.

“How’s this?” I suggested.  “You get certified to Scuba Dive over Christmas, make the honor roll one more time and get accepted into the National Junior Honor Society in February and I will write an Easter Letter which informs all of our loved ones that you are a great kid.  Will that do?”

She sighed heavily and said nothing.

“It’s a deal then.”

So, friends and family, Lauren is now certified to Scuba Dive and is a member of the National Junior Honor Society. 

On a general note, a young Cuban gentleman bought our boat for 3K more than the book value, paid for it in $20 bills from a paper bag, and Dave purchased a 34’ Silverton with in two weeks.  Sneaky, the 10’ boa, is pregnant.

Happy Easter J

Cindy and Clan