Holiday letters of regret come in handy

Rummaging through paperwork from the family archives, I came across these communications, which may or may not be from members of my family who are more hooliganish than even I thought. The letters and notes are not dated and I don’t recall many of the folks named here, but since some of these excuses certainly sound plausible, I thought I would share them as a public service. The holidays are difficult, especially if there are expectations of us visiting relatives outside the state. If I had to cancel a visit to a relative I might use some of these excellent excuses. Feel free to use any or all portions of these notes and letters to adapt to your own circumstances in your holiday correspondence.

 Dear Uncle Buck,

I can’t come to your place on Christmas. I’m so sorry. I’m very disappointed that I won’t be able to eat Aunt Mabel’s corn-oyster-ice cream-soufflé again this year. I’ll also miss your home brew which you favor so much we generally miss you most of the afternoon anyway. I know that home brew has a kick as I learned the last time. Was that the 1966 Dodge or the 1998 Thunderbird you all found me under last time? Ha ha! That sure was a good old time.

   I also miss seeing Junior, my first cousin and friend since birth. Has he gotten to the dentist yet? A set of teeth are really going to make a difference in his life. I heard he was thinking about going to a department store for work. A full set of teeth just may help. How’s he doing on that home-schooled GED he was pursuing?

   The reason I can’t come down to arKANSAS to see your brood is simple. We’re dead broke. Like all Americans these days I’m sitting right dab in the middle of Bustedville. I don’t understand why we’re in this boat. We make the Corvette payments on time, and we don’t go out to eat but 4-5 times a week since we cut back. Baby and me both need new jeans but we’re holding off until better times.

    I hate to ask, but in the generosity of the season I was wondering if you could see your way clear to send a little help my way. I’d ask my old man if he was still with us, but he  doesn’t make much producing car plates over at the state pen.

   The reason I need dough is that I’ve got a few problems. Baby’s in jail. I don’t understand how my wife got to jail, but they said she was in the car with some drifter at the time she was arrested. I suspected she may have been kidnapped, but no one’s given me details. Anyway, Baby’s in jail and we’re trying to get her out for the holidays. It’ll cost $500 and we can’t bond the house since we’re renting. So there’s that.

   The other thing is the busted furnace. The landlord said we busted it trying to roast that deer kill I found over on Highway 35. Otherwise, we’re doing OK so far. I rigged up the barbecue in the living room and opened that window so we don’t get poisoned and it works for the most part. But we need a part for the furnace that’ll cost $236.50.

   I sure hope you come through for us. Maybe you could sell that Thunderbird. It sure would be nice to have Baby out for the holidays. Hope to hear from you.

Sincerely,

Your loving nephew Perry

 

Dear Grandma and Grandpa,

 I fear I must reveal that I cannot be with you for the holidays though I wish I could, but I can’t because I’m trying to dry out in the city jail after being picked up for speeding and not stopping when I was told to, although I don’t remember any of that and remember things completely differently, but like it was a dream that is now a nightmare because the bunk here smells mightily and my roommates are not friendly but threatening and I can’t sleep because I fear they are after me in the love sense, which is not my way, so I am sending you this note to allow you time to organize a box or two of goodies to send me here at the jail.

Thanks,

Brad

 Dear Mom and Dad,

I cannot come home from college this Christmas. I have volunteered for charitable work in Boston so will miss out on all the family doings. Please tell Aunt Stella not to mail me her Slumgummy pie as it really melts in the mail and gets over everything. The last time the pie exploded in my room and I can still see some on the ceiling here. I have met a boy. His name is Jimmy. He lives in the Boston area, but that’s not why I’m going there. It’s only a coincidence. He lives in a big house with an indoor pool, and all his rooms have bear rugs. I can’t believe how soft bear rugs feel. I mean I can only imagine. Anyway, Jimmy’s parents must be rich. They are in Morocco for the holidays. I think that’s near Germany or Holland, so it’s far away. Jimmy will also be doing charitable work is the only reason I mention him. He’s invited some of us to his house for Christmas, but I don’t know. I’m still thinking about it. Anyway, I’m late for geography (I had to take it over again, remember?), and then off to my Bowling Club. I got a strike last week, my first. Please tell everyone.

Love and kisses,

Melissa

 

Dear Sheriff,

Just a brief note to let you know I won’t be returning to the county facility. I have left the country so I will miss my court date as well. I know I told you I would see you during the holidays, but I lied. It’s that simple. Anyway, I wanted to share with you the news that I have met and married a beautiful woman from Russia, who responded to my letters in search of a bride. Had I not met Katya I would readily return to the facility since I figured I would get released following my trial or at least not receive much of a sentence. After all, no one pays their property taxes anymore so why should I be singled out? The deal is just sell the trailer and keep the proceeds. I hope that will square me up with the county. If it doesn’t, well, tough donuts! I don’t care. I am in love and we have enough food for the week. I hope you and the Mrs. are well. I very much enjoyed her singing during my stay in the facility and her fine work on the tambourine. I also thought her Jello recipes were superb. It had never occurred to me to have Jello for breakfast. I guess you learn something new every day. Bye for now, or as Katya says, VyeVye, darlink!

Sylvester

  

 There are many more letters, but I hope the ones I chose prove to be of some use to you. I know they work for me. I’ve already gotten 12 invitations for the holidays so I will be very busy writing letters of regret over the holidays. Which is why I won’t be answering the phone if you call.

    Otherwise, have a memorable Christmas, with or without your relatives.