2018 Holiday Letter – Boobs and All

What a year. From running a marathon on Antarctica to running around the hospital as Erin used cancer to fake her way to insurance paying for a boob job (eat that United Healthcare!), we’ve been full throttle. Work. Kid’s activities. Except I wasn’t really working. And our kids aren’t in that many activities. So the system over here is less full throttle and more a 1972 chainsaw sputtering and gasping for air because the choke is stuck.

Harper has followed in the footsteps of her grandfather and father and published her first book, titled Unicat Goes to Space. It’s a period piece about Tudor England, but set in the future with a cat and spaceships. Movie rights have been optioned with Donald Sutherland as the clumsy waiter. The smart money is on Harper selling more copies than all other Brooks book sales combined, at which time she’s out of the house. Nobody likes a show-off.

Calvin is now a freshman at Paly high school. We insisted he join a club this year to broaden out from just schoolwork, gaming and his nights studying at the Church of Scientology. We were thinking robotics club or something to do with blockchain at least. He chose the Bob Ross club. So every Monday he and a bunch of other kids demonstrated that they can obey the letter, but not the spirit, of the law by watching a fuzzy-headed hippie draw happy little trees. He sometimes asks why I hate him. But now he’s old enough to know that I only hate myself. The rest is just lashing out aimlessly.

We got fish this year. Specifically male and female guppies. They breed like water bunnies. Dozens of baby fry every few weeks. Adorable. Then we got an Angel Fish to eat the babies. We did that. And now you have to live with the implications.

Cousin Brett, or ‘basement boy’ as the cleaners lovingly called him, finally grew wings and flew away in October. The family misses him, but at least now I have a bed to sleep in instead of the couch when I get on Erin’s nerves. What I’m saying is I sleep in the basement. With the cat.

I already mentioned Erin’s cancer and boobs. She also forced us to get a new puppy. As I am writing this, Stella is biting on furniture. In fairness, so is Erin. She’s been on a lot of drugs. But we love her and the potty training is going okay, so we’re not too upset. And yes, that was an ambiguous use of the pronoun ‘her’.

I know you’re all thinking…..but what about YOU Andrew? How are YOU doing? We’re concerned about YOU! It’s been a hard year on YOU! You guys……I have alcohol.

That’s it.

A handful of humans, animals and neurosis that make up the Brooks family.

P.S. – NO COLLUSION!

Other Holiday Letters from years ago. Keep digging if you want more.

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