Dear Darling Son and That Person You Married,

Merry Christmas to you, and please don't worry. I'm just fine considering I

can't breathe or eat. The important thing is that you have a nice holiday,

thousands of miles away from your ailing mother. I've sent along my last

ten dollars in this card, which I hope you'll spend on my grandchildren.

God knows their mother never buys them anything nice. They look so thin in

their pictures, poor babies.

Thank you so much for the birthday flowers, dear boy. I put them in the

freezer so they'll stay fresh for my grave. Which reminds me -- we buried

Grandma last week. I know she died years ago, but I got to yearning for a

good funeral so Aunt Berta and I dug her up and had the services all over

again. I would have invited you, but I know that woman you live with would

have never let you come. I bet she's never even watched that videotape of

my hemorrhoid surgery, has she?

Well son, it's time for me to crawl off to bed now. I lost my cane beating

off muggers last week, but don't you worry about me. I'm also getting used

to the cold since they turned my heat off and am grateful because the frost

on my bed numbs the constant pain.

Now don't you even think about sending any more money, because I know you

need it for those expensive family vacations you take every year...

Give my love to my darling grandbabies and my regards to

whatever-her-name-is -- the one with the black roots in her hair who stole

you screaming from my bosom.

Merry Christmas,

Love, Mom