Atop our list of 2016 feats: grand orthopedic triumphs. After enduring a superfluity of injections, ablations, infusions, and healthcare rejections, JoAnn finally tamed a blazing sacroiliac joint in March by undergoing a successful fusion of the two bad-tempered bone masses. The surgery, followed by several months of healing and rehab, reduced her pain level substantially, thus allowing Tom to regain his standing as principal household irritant. Our next ortho opportunity occurred in October, when JoAnn’s mother, Rita, received a shiny new hip after damaging the original model at the Battle of Trader Joe Incline. Based on Rita’s experience, we nominate Fort Collins (Where geese meets west!) as the world’s best place to fracture a critical joint. Tom escaped the year surgery-free by adhering to strict policies of minimal mental and physical activity, negative startle responses, less lurking and loitering, and never asking more of his pants than they were designed to deliver. Despite these efforts, the HOA recently voted him most likely to be dragged across Salem Street by a pack of well-meaning Chihuahuas.
The aforementioned hip replacement and Rita’s subsequent move to a luxurious, more space-efficient residence has helped us answer the nagging question of how best to exploit our unoccupied floor space. The good news: next time the basement floods, we will never know. On the subject of water, we must apologize for our contribution to Larimer County’s current state of drought, which we facilitated in the form of seeping sprinkler pipes, leaking garbage disposals, and only Santa Claus knows what else flows throughout our deficient backfill.
Resident felines Nelson and Clem appear elated by the recent influx of boxes, bins, and furniture. Their tooth-and-claw expressions of gratitude might appear boorish to the unfurred, unshredded, and unchewed. However, we remain thankful for the presence of these minute-by-minute monitors of carelessly placed possessions. Around here, we gladly operate at a Clemular level, consuming fur-laced food with one hand while fending off feline plate prodders with the other.
Another unintentional addition to our home this year (never fear, geneticists—not a baby) arrived in the form of the amazing NutriBullet®. This miracle machine has precipitated near-daily gatherings of produce that we typically age in place to the point of spoilage and rancidity. On occasion, though, we do manage to pulverize a mound of undecayed vegetation into a slightly less hideous, nearly consumable form of quick-to-congeal simplex dumbohydrates, the perfect supplement to Tom’s usual diet of desert shrimp, guaca-fat, tater nots, pickle backs, and steaming mugs of pie. The real benefit of the “Bullet” occurs within each thunderous, ninety-second grinding cycle, a brief but blissful shield against the ceaseless baying of the neighbor dogs.
Moving on from the complaints and forward to the semi-sincere pleasantries, we wish you all a non-newsworthy 2017, filled with stable Googling and freedom from the tyranny of events. We’re planning a vacation to Vague Land and the Isle of Uselessness, where we hope to realign our beliefs with reality and reestablish tranquility in uncivilized districts. While we’re gone, we leave you with the following lessons from election season: Fake it to the next level, and whatever you do, do not get caught in the fact.
