Always read the small print.
As I took it out of its envelope, this is how the Christmas card looked — all lush colors and ingratiating words.
It kind of made me feel all gooey and appreciated, a great feeling for Christmas morning.
Then I opened and read the message inside. More ingratiating, flattering words — and then I get to the final printed line (note word circled in red).
It’s a keeper and I laughed my ass off. I didn’t know she knew I was transitioning. 😃
Half-Pint admits she wasn’t wearing her glasses and couldn’t see the small type. She penned some personal comments to me that I cut off, because they are personal and I have never handled praise all that well.
One reason I laughed: It brought back a memory when Your Favorite Columnist, then just a callow teenager, bought a Mother’s Day card for his my mother. As you may know from a recent column, I am one of those rare card-buying males.
Confession: Most cards are mushy and trite, especially then, 50 years ago, and I rarely read them all the way through.
Which is why on this occasion, Mom (rest in peace) opened the card, read it, and said, “Well, I certainly hope so.”
Huh?
She showed me the card, with its signature line: “You’ve been like a mother to me,” clearly intended for someone who filled that role, but was not Mom.
In any event, it’s the thoughtless that counts, am I right?
HAPPY TUESDAY !!!
pallie,
You touched a funny bone. Instead of sending the correct card(s) on the appropriate day, deliberately send a card for some other special occasion. You don’t have to look in the humor section for that special message. Instead of congrats for an up coming wedding, send a sympathy card. ( especially if the one getting married is an ‘ex’. Send it to the new other half.
just say’n’
Tony
Great idea. 😆
Reminds me of my younger days when my kid brother always signed his cards “Form Chris” instead of “From Chris”. Still mention it to him today especially in front of his own grown children.
That’s a fun card you got, Stu. You won’t forget it EVER.
One year I send each of my four sons a hand-lettered Christmas card that read, “You are my favorite son. Please do not tell your brothers!” I addressed the envelope to each son but put a different brother’s card into the envelope. The boys still talk about how much fun it was to be ‘mistaken.’
I had a boss who quit by sending each of the three publishers a note saying he was quitting because of the other two.
I then became editor of 4 Brooklyn weeklies and became the youngest newspaper editor in America.
I quit after 6 months. The publishers were nuts.