In The Weeds: Servers! They’re just like you!
Today, I’m going to do the lazy procrastinator year in review sort of thing and let you read the annual family Christmas letter that I sent out yesterday. See? Even we heathen servers who don’t care about anything but 20% tips can be just like you and send out a Christmas letter.
The hubs and I and the offspring are on our way out the door to the Hollywood of the Midwest! Branson, Missouri. We are taking the kids to ride the Polar Express train, and if we’re lucky, we may run into that Riverdance guy or Yakov Smirnoff.
Christmas Letter 2009
Last year we sent out our first Christmas letter. Because we had planned on finally becoming ridiculously wealthy celebrities during 2009, we didn’t really plan on ever doing a Christmas letter again (we’d have our people do it). And although we possess no special talents or innovative business plans, we were still shocked to find ourselves remaining decidedly average at the end of 2009. Just a middle-class family driving mid-sized sedans in middle America. No really, like the actual middle of America. Look it up. And so, in an effort to embrace our averageness, we present to you The Second Annual But We Swear To God This Is The Last Time Ohlund Family Christmas Letter.
After tucking the little angels into bed, we sipped wine and gazed at the crooked star on top of our brittle Scotch Pine (Chef never can pass up a sale at Lowes), reflecting on what happenings we could share with you. But who are we kidding? We have two boys under four and must therefore sip wine almost every night. Between the two of us, we could only remember about four things that happened this year.
In June, we joined CJ’s grandma and 20 other relatives on her dad’s side for a seven-day cruise. This trip had been in the works since 2007 when grandma called us and said, “Hey kids, do you want to go on an all-expenses-paid cruise in June of 09?” We replied, “Grandma, take your meds and stop prank calling us!” But she was serious, and we had the time of our lives. You can search for “Milli Vanilli Karaoke” [sic] on YouTube for the embarrassing proof.
September brought a little less fun when Chef left work in the middle of the day for the first time ever. He said his side hurt really bad, and he was running a fever. Suspecting appendicitis, CJ urged him to go to the doctor. Chef resisted, saying, “I just need to lay down. It’s probably just really bad gas.” Yeah, that is one wicked Taco Bell chalupa if it includes a fever of 102 degrees. Learning that ever-so-important lesson of Your Wife is Always Right, he went into emergency surgery a few hours later and lost his appendix but not his pride. He continues to work as an executive chef.
Back to June, CJ was fired from her job of three years at The Capital Grille for writing a blog about being a server. This led to some minor local publicity and one of her columns was reprinted in the December issue of Reader’s Digest and on Msnbc.com. While not the international celebrity we were hoping for, people who frequent doctor’s waiting rooms are quite familiar with her work. After being a mostly stay-at-home mom for five years, CJ is returning to a full-time career at the end of December.
So, we guess that’s about it. Oops, we almost forgot. We have two kids that you probably want to know about. They are too little to have any real “happenings” so we are going to include some actual kid quotes below. You know, looking back at it now, being average is actually pretty amazing, and we wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Merry Christmas to you and your family!
KID QUOTES (names changed to protect the children of the not-so-innocent):
CJ: Standing in the doorway of our one and only bathroom, “Ralphie, hurry up. Mommy has to go potty really bad.”
Ralphie: “Mom, just go like this.” Pinches his penis.
Randy: Holding a Polar Express bell just like in the movie, with which both boys are obsessed, and closing his eyes, “I believe.” Whispers, “I believe.”
Ralphie: “I don’t like girls.”
CJ: “Do you like me?”
Ralphie: “No, only Daddy and Randy.”
CJ: “I don’t like boys.”
Ralphie: “But mom, you say you love me all the time!”
Randy: Too scared to get close, stands about 30 feet away at the end of the red carpet leading up to Santa and yells as loud as he can, “Hi Santa! You want to come to my house? You bring toys?”
CJ: “Do you love mommy?”
Randy: “No, I love Santa.”
Chef: “Bobby, stop doing that and go to your room.”
Randy: Crying, “Mom, daddy hates me.”
Ralphie: “It will be Christmas when it snows.”
It snowed. And it wasn’t Christmas.
Ralphie: “It will be Christmas when it snows and it’s dark outside.”
It snowed after dark. And it wasn’t Christmas.
Ralphie: “It will be Christmas when Santa says it’s Christmas.”