Thanks For The Sweater

Dear Grandma,

Ever since I was a little boy you always told me that I should write thank you notes for any gifts I receive. And I have always heeded this advice because you have always been an inspiration to me. Which brings me to the reason for this letter. I would like to thank you for the lovely sweater you gave me this year.

I realize it is not easy for you to go out and shop for Christmas due to your arthritic knees. I’m sure that while in the store there were many different sweaters for you to pick from. It must have been quite the inward battle between a plain colored sweater and the one with flying reindeer over a city. The sweater you ultimately chose.

It’s perfect by all means. The blue background matches my eyes, the red building matches my hair and the buildings will always remind me that I live in a building much like the ones depicted on this whimsical sweater. The purple one most closely resembles my own detached two-bedroom townhouse, except of course my house had white siding and is not made of scratchy acrylic yarn by small children in China.

Although I have never seen a real deer, nor ever mentioned one before to you, you somehow have detected this would be my favorite animal worthy of displaying across my chest. Perhaps you feel this is my spirit animal. I will consult my local shaman to confirm this fact. And they fly, how magical.

Normally when one sees a number of flying deer chained to one another it is followed by a sleigh with that Jolly Old Man. No, not Grandpa… ha, ha. We both know he’s dead. Of course I mean Santa. I can only conclude that his absence is a comment on how consumerism has hijacked the Christmas season. The reindeer have cast off their bonds of servitude to the great God, Wal-Mart. And you know how much I hate big conglomerates and their shoddy merchandise. The fact you bought this sweater for me is just the sort of ironic twist mixed with a political message I would expect from you Grandma.

I’m not sure when I will have the opportunity to wear this sweater. Perhaps during hunting season I will wear it for a week. Trudging out into the forest gun in hand, I’ll wear the sweater. The other deer will see it and think, “What fun, deer who can fly! Maybe I’ll try and make friends and learn to fly myself.” Then when they draw near I can blast the life out of them. That’s a whole two weeks a year I’ll be able to enjoy this piece of clothing you have thoughtfully given me. Now I just need to buy a gun and develop a taste for deer meat. I hope that it is machine washable so I can get all the blood off of it.

Anyway Grandma, thank you for the thoughtful gift. It is only rivaled by your birthday gift to me of the cat sweater, which of course I wear during cat hunting season.

Best wishes and Happy New Year.

Love,

Sammy