Welcome to the first ever Thornton Family Christmas letter!
1. Let us begin with our oldest, Peter.
In not getting hired at Chik-fil-a this summer, Peter learned that it is best NOT to wear your mother's silver flip-flops to an interview for a position in the food service industry. A lesson he put into practice at his next restaurant job interview, where he now works as a busboy.
Peter has been driving all year, and has not had any traffic violations.
He was pulled over once and given a warning, "But the cop was really cool and didn't even say anything about the candle."
"What candle?" you may be asking. Peter keeps a scented jar candle in his car to combat teen boy/sports equipment funk. Little did we know that he was LIGHTING the candle and driving around with A LIT CANDLE in his car.
"The way the light flickers off the dashboard makes me feel cozy."
Society as well as a few universities have deemed Peter mature enough to go to college next fall.
Patrick and I are as yet undecided on the issue.
Susan makes us proud every day. Her most recent accomplishment is learning how to whistle.
At sixteen, she finally put in enough practice time to make a thin, reedy whistling noise. Her dedication to this task is commendable.
You can always tell where Susan is. Just listen for the sound of air leaking at a very high pitch and there she is.
Her next goal is mastering multiple tones while whistling, and someday, dare we dream, melody.
Of course we encourage her in the Disney way letting her know that if she wishes (or whistles) long enough, she can be anything she wants.
Accordingly, she was recently hired at the very same Chik-fil-a, by the very same general manager, that rejected Peter. I believe it was her footwear and the fact that she refrained from whistling that got her the job.
Susan got her license this year, teaching us more about faith and physics than we ever knew.
For example, did you know that you can scrape the front of your car on a tree that is behind you? You can! I've seen it happen.
Lucy, Patrick's second favorite child, is practically perfect in every way.
She has been earning some coin by wearing a double knit polyester Salvation Army costume and singing Christmas carols during intermissions of a community theater play.
In the coming year, society and the government will say she is ready to get a driving permit. Patrick and I are very much not ready to do that again.
Perchance, does anyone know of a driving school that is also a boarding school? Something along the lines of those schools where you send your dog and it comes back trained. Except for driving. And teenagers.
Lucy continues valiantly (see what I did there? If you don't get it, read your C.S. Lewis) to master rudimentary baking skills. She is now at the level where she only has to throw the batter away and start over ONCE during a project.
She recently learned the correct pronunciation of the word "pint." It does NOT rhyme with hint. This glaring omission in her education has brought us great shame, but we vow to do better. She is currently being schooled in all measures of spirits: ounces, drams, shots, fingers, pints, schooners, pony kegs, kegs, etc.
With Susan's whistling example, I am certain she will persevere and ultimately succeed.
Edmund quit school, thrilling and tantalizing school-age boys up and down our block, prompting at least one visit from a
Edmund is now a full-fledged Boy Scout. We are hoping his newly acquired survival skills will serve him well in a world where the formal education system failed him.
As Patrick's grandmother has said, "Jill is quite a fascinating little piece."
Piece? Piece of ....what? How does that thought end? Inquiring minds want to know.
Jill, Edmund, and I had lunch with Grammy recently.
Grammy lovingly sat down to read bibliophile Jill (she is her mother's daughter) The Little Engine That Could . When Grammy read the line "the little engine stopped with a jerk," Jill stood up exclaiming, "with a JERK? WITH A JERK?"
This caused the somewhat confused Grammy to attempt to give the OTHER definition of the word "jerk" to a two year old. We don't use it in that fancy parlor room way around here.
6. Our bonus for 2013 was the discovery that there will be six little (and not so little) Thorntons next year.
Name discussions are common around here.
I would like to make it easy and name the child, Jevin. Boy or girl, Jevin works. Jevin is a combination of my name and my first-born-soon-to-leave-the-nest-his-name-isn't-really-Peter-it-rhymes-with-Jevin-and-starts-with-a-K.
Jill insists that child 6.0 is a girl, seeing as how her baby brother is in her own tummy and will be named Eric, after this handsome man, of course.
Or we could always go completely weird and name the child Solstice, since the due date is one of my very favorite days of the year, the longest day, the shortest night, six months from tomorrow.
7. Patrick and I are enjoying the roller coaster and are grateful for blessings past, present, and future.