candy cane There are few things on earth that can simultaneously set my teeth on edge and fill me with jaded glee like a well crafted humblebrag Christmas letter.

They always remind me of press releases from failing companies that are trying to hype some re-hashed product in a vain attempt to stay in business for another year. The only difference is the company shill who wrote the release understands the game while the creator of the family card is probably a sociopath.

All great humblebrag greetings contain three things: (1) Sports and/or academic achievement by their dumbass kids, (2) Work/Civic achievements for the dumbass parents and (3) Vacation or other news to contrast their success with your bleak life.

As a realistic parent I’m under no delusions about my children, and if all three manage to find careers that don’t involve sucking dick behind the Sheetz for crack, I’ll feel like I did my job.

And if you’re the type that feels like your nine-year-old throwing a two-hitter in a Little League game is notable, it’s just going to make it more difficult for you to accept it when that kid turns out to be a fuck-up and is still living at home at 30.

That’s why you always need a lot of children. Odds are at least one is going to suck.

I tried to get my wife to do a fake humble brag card this year, but her response was typical; “You have 51 weeks a year to be an asshole, can’t you at least be nice for one?”

Apparently, I cannot.

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