My dear cousins,
While I am proud to have been the one to educate you about S.E.X. by pointing to the neighbor's dogs when we were 9 ("Actually, Mario that's not lipstick..."), I can’t say I’m proud to have informed you that there is no Santa Claus. I was mostly angry because your parents were so much better than mine. At things like parenting and Christmas. Your tree was always real and green. Ours was $14.99 from our local drugstore. Your toys were always battery-powered. Ours were powered by the mind. So when my sister told me that our parents were the ones wrapping our Christmas presents in birthday paper, NOT Santa Claus, I was appalled and had to share the shitty news with those closest to me. Ken, Barbie, and of course you guys. And seeing as my sister chewed the hands and feet off of barbie that year, I chose to only tell you guys. I couldn’t bare to bring Ken any more bad news. “Ken, no more hand jobs. No more Christmas either.” Surely you understand the difficult position I was in.
Anyway, I know your parents will never forgive me for prematurely ushering the two of you into adulthood but I hope you can find it in your hearts to buy me a present this Christmas.
I miss you guys,