Nothing like starting the new year off with an inferiority complex.

That’s all I can think as I wade through the holiday brag letters I get from family and friends. 

Who would’ve guessed the kid next door from our old neighborhood, the one who used to pee through the fence into our yard, would go on to win a Nobel Prize? And I didn’t know they even gave one out for Lego building. 

Or that my cousin’s kid, who ate black olives till he barfed at our last family reunion, graduated at the top of his class, is an Eagle scout and has never had a pimple?

Don’t get me wrong. I love hearing from family and friends, but I want the truth. I want to know how they’re really doing. I don’t want to say I want dirt … but I want dirt, or at least to know my family’s not the only with its struggles. This is the holiday letter I long to get:

“Dear friend/family member/stranger who showed up on our Christmas card list, 

“It’s been a hectic year for our whole family, and I hope this festive season finds you employed, solvent or at least well-represented by a bankruptcy attorney.

“The wife and I marked our 17th year of wedded bliss (and our 20th year of actual marriage) in the spring with a second honeymoon to Terre Haute, where we ate frozen burritos at the convenience story where we first met when she backed her Chevy Nova into my Gremlin while I was gassing up (I refer to the car, not my burrito intake). 

“Our children, Beth, now 16, and Seth, 10 but acting more like 4 some days, are in the middle of the pack at school. ‘You can’t spell “success” without a couple of C’s,’ I tell them at grade-card time. 

“Outside school, the kids watched a lot of TV in the last year, ate a bunch of junk food and hid in their rooms pretending to do homework. Seth’s soccer team lost every game this year, but it wasn’t his fault since he mostly sat on the bench. Beth, who as you know has been a drama queen since birth, tried out for her first theatrical production. She’s understudy to the backup lighting coordinator. Despite the glamour of the role, thankfully she’s remained well grounded. As you should when working with electricity. 

“The big event of the year was our much anticipated summer vacation, two weeks at a friend’s lake house. I confess I didn’t realize that central Minnesota had a monsoon season, but all the indoor time minimized our exposure to what locals called the worst mosquito infestation in decades. And all the moisture really kept down the damage when Seth’s stash of fireworks went off unexpectedly while he was playing with matches. On the positive side, the volunteer firefighters said they could use the work. So vacation was a blast, literally if not figuratively.

“After a year of loving, learning and growth (thank goodness for those elastic-waist Dockers), our family wishes you and yours all the best this holiday season.

“Love,

All of us”

Now there’s a letter I’d read all the way to the end. 

My life’s great. I have a beautiful wife and four energetic, intelligent kids whose laughter is the most wonderful sound in the world. I’m proud of my family, warts and all. I can’t imagine a parent feeling any other way. So I don’t understand this need to edit and embellish.

I mean isn’t it enough that my 4-year-old twins composed their first opera, my 7-year-old daughter was accepted to medical school early and my 10-year-old son developed a workable Middle East peace plan … 

(Dave Bundy is editorial director for the Suburban Journals of Greater St. Louis. Reach him at dbundy@yourjournal.com or 314-744-5772.)

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 25th, 2008 at 10:08 am and is filed under Columnist Dave Bundy. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.