Since I am in the holiday spirit (and, having just consumed a mug of hot toddy, a glass of eggnog and a nip of cheer, the holiday spirits are in me), I have decided to follow in that great tradition of boring everyone silly by writing a Christmas letter.

That is why I am pleased as punch (which I also drank) to present the following chronicle of the Zezima family, which includes Jerry, the patriarch, and Sue, the matriarch, as well as two daughtersiarch, two sons-in-lawiarch, five grandchildreniarch and a partridge in a pear tree.

Dear friends:

It sure has been an eventful year for the Zezimas!

Things got off to a hot start, mainly with birthday candles, when Jerry turned the big 7-Oh. His 70s show featured four parties in three different places: one at his mother’s house (more on her in a moment), one at his older daughter’s house and two at his own house. When the festivities were over, the new old man took a nap.

The day after Jerry turned 70, he got an email urging him to buy burial insurance.

He might have needed it if it hadn’t been for his cardiologist, who detected a tick in his ticker and ordered Jerry to take a battery of tests, including a stress test (he stressed out two nurses), an echocardiogram (he kept making echo noises for the technologist) and a heart calcium score (he asked the radiologist what the score was and if he was winning).

It was determined that Jerry needed open-heart surgery. This was confirmed by a cardiac surgeon, who compared himself to a plumber. Jerry asked if the operation would be performed at Home Depot.

The day before the scheduled procedure, the surgeon called Jerry to say he didn’t need an operation after all. The news gladdened Jerry’s heart. But just to be safe, and on doctor’s orders, he has stopped lifting anything heavier than a glass of red wine, which he considers over-the-counter heart medicine.

Sue had a medical issue of her own: torn ligaments in her thumb that actually did require surgery. While she was recuperating, Jerry took over the cooking and laundry duties without burning down or flooding the house.

Speaking of home, sweet home, Sue and Jerry’s humble abode needed procedures of its own.

They included a bathroom renovation (for picking out a lovely shade of beige, Jerry was crowned the Prince of Paint, after which he sat on the throne), a central air-conditioning system (the only thing that could make Jerry cool) and major electrical work (which was needed when Jerry couldn’t figure out how to change a light bulb).

Jerry won the year’s biggest election when all five grandchildren voted for him to keep his mustache. The only opposing vote was cast by Sue, who said it tickles when he kisses her, which is often.

In other exciting news, Jerry passed an online driving course (he graduated motor cum laude), he participated in the Big Climb (a fundraiser for cancer research in which he climbed 2,500 steps at Citi Field in New York and didn’t keel over), he participated in a pun contest (10 years after winning, he returned but only made the semifinals, though as the oldest contestant, he was pun for the ages), he took his grandson to a dinosaur museum (and was considered the best fossil), he bought a pair of slides (size 13!), he took Sue’s car to be washed (and met a guy who used to work in a diamond mine in Brazil, though he couldn’t bring a gem back home to Sue), and he and Sue had a new lawn installed (immediately after which there was a drought).

But the highlight of the year was the 100th birthday celebration for Jerry’s mother, Rosina, who was the life of the party and for whom love and laughter are the secrets of her longevity.

Merry Christmas with love and laughter to you and your family, too, from the Zezimas.

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