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Dear authors of “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year”… you obviously never had to fight the holiday traffic in Dallas. Dear gigantic peanut butter cup in my refrigerator, stop whispering my name. You’re killing me. Dear 80’s, I’ve had to live through your outrageous fashion trends already in my lifetime. Trust me, once was enough. No revivals, please. Dear husband, sorry for deserting you with the girls for almost six hours yesterday. Please refer to the comment regarding psychotic Dallas drivers above. Dear Charlie Brown, I’ll always adore you. Dear self, you did it again. It comes as no surprise to anyone but you that there’s less than a week until Christmas and you still have two dresses to sew and three other gifts to make. You must really be a pro because you didn’t even procrastinate this year. Dear Christmas cactus, um, it’s Christmas. Maybe you forgot?   Dear Heather and Caleb, sorry about the computer. And kicking you out of your own house the last morning I was there. P.S. I’m sure we’ll be back eventually so I would suggest hiding anything (even remotely) breakable first. If that’s not enough to strike fear in your hearts, I don’t know what will.  Dear Heidi, next time I ramble on the phone for ten minutes thinking that you’re Ang you may want to clue me in. ;) Dear friends and family, don’t stress. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, remember?