Krampus Gives Up: Jenkins Family Christmas Letter 2020

I’ve had fun with the Jenkin’s family Christmas letter over the past few years. It seems as though the entire world was visited by Krampus last year.

Seasons Greeting! Happy Holidays!  Merry Christmas!

Let me start by saying that I know 2020 has been hard for all of you. I know it has.

But is Timmy your child? Has your child been possessed by Krampus since 2015? Did your family spend an entire year in a coma? Did your husband turn invisible and lose his tongue? Have you had to live with an elderly Armenian woman who doesn’t speak your language and hisses at your child? Do you have to feed a goat named Shitstain?

No. No you don’t.

So, I am sorry this year was hard. Let me just say, I have some empathy.

And some fantastic news!

It turns out 2020 was so abysmally bad on a global level that Krampus decided to cut us loose.

Krampus says that he doesn’t even remember what Timmy did that was so bad.

Krampus assured me he has many other people to choose from. He thinks the Trump family alone will keep him busy until the rain forests die out.



I’m not going to lie. I do feel a bit hurt. Don’t judge me. It’s hard when relationships end, even bad ones.

The spirit of Krampus doesn’t officially leave Timmy until midnight on New Year’s eve, so keep all your fingers crossed for us.

Just a few more weeks and we get to go back to a normal life.

I am going to ask that he leaves the woman who lives behind my ear alone. We’re besties now. Plus, her egg salad is to die for. Really.

Good news is the judge ruled that the poisoning was completely accidental.  Bad news is our closest neighbors are now 22 miles away from us instead of 10. I miss Frank and Phyllis, I really do, but knowing what they knew about us, they really never should have eaten food we offered. There is such a thing as personal responsibility, you know.

Ana-Marie and Timmy seem to have put most of their differences aside.

For instance, I looked out the window the other day and they were playing ping pong in the back yard. Sure, the paddles were made from mummified road kill and I’m pretty sure the ping pong ball was actually an eyeball.

But, you know me, I hate for focus on the negative.

I’m just glad they’re getting along and Ana-Marie isn’t levitating as much. I can’t tell you how many times she’s startled me. It can be unnerving to feel an old woman’s bare toes graze over the top of your head when you’re half asleep or trying to get to the bathroom.

Timmy’s skin finally went back to normal, except for the scales and those ridges on his back.

I think he’s ready for a new kitten! We haven’t had a cat since Muffy disappeared.

At least, I think that is what Timmy is asking for. Either a kitten, or he’s trying to tell me that the creek behind the house is full of blood again.

I have such a hard time understanding that ancient language he speaks.

What are you gonna do, though? Kids and their hobbies these days, am I right? Anyway, I hope he is asking for a kitten. Shitstain, the goat, seems lonely and needs a companion.

Jennifer came back home a few months ago. I was pretty disappointed to find she got a tattoo. Our bodies are temples, not canvases. But she is an adult now and can make her own decisions. She’s been encouraging us to get matching tattoos. Something about warding.

I know Timmy likes his sister’s tattoo, because whenever he sees it, his eyes spin around like his head is a Las Vegas slot machine. Too bad no quarters come out! Haha! We could use the money. But no quarters. It’s still just gallons of bile and small rodent skulls.

Roger is still invisible. Boo.

But Krampus assured me that he would return Roger to normal.

The thing is, I don’t know if I want him back to normal. I mean, it would be nice if he had a tongue and we could see him. I’ve grown used to his flatulence and would give anything to see his jaw unhinge and drop down to his chest again. I know it doesn’t seem possible, but it was pretty sexy. Or is that TMI? LOL!


So, our future looks brighter than it has for years and we couldn’t be more excited. I don’t want to get Timmy’s hopes up or anything, but I think a trip to Disney might be in the cards next year? At least I think that’s what Ana-Marie’s tarot cards are telling me. Either a trip to Disney or we’re going to trigger an apocalypse.

Well, my treasured family and friends, I hope this letter finds you well and that you are staying safe and enjoying this glorious holiday season!

With love, Roger, Tish, Jennifer, Timmy, Ana-Marie and Shitstain

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  • Gosh, I just hate getting the annual Christmas letter from friends and family. They always show us up for having more fun and being more adventurous than we are. Sigh.

  • It’s great that for the Jenkins family they have to wear shades, even if in their case “shades” means dark spirits held in place with protective glyphs. And I’m pretty sure a trip to Disney and triggering the apocalypse are the same thing right now.
    Anyway I think we all feel better. Especially Shitstain.

  • Well, we had a holiday vole the other day… I had never had a vole before, but we got home from the store and the cat was paying a little too much attention to the area underneath the sewing machine, again.
    That’s where his victims tend to scamper off to when he doesn’t kill them all of the way, for some reason.
    Then, “There it is! He did bring a mouse in!”
    “Wait, that’s too big to be a mouse, and it moves all wrong, did that little fucker bring a motherfucking RAT into our room? Did you? DID YOU!!??”
    Then the poor little thing waddled from behind the refrigerator over to the catfood dishes, and we got s better look at it and…
    And Briana caught it and took it outside, and it only bit her a little.
    That’s when she saw its stubby little tail and figured out that it was a vole.
    It showed up again yesterday on the stairs between the road and the house, so I think we have ourselves a holiday vole…
    Today we have been here for one year, and tomorrow is my sixtieth birthday, so Krampus can fuck right off.
    I hope you guys are doing okay in the waning days of the damn apocalypse.

    • Well, your vole needs a name, right?

      Happy almost birthday! You’re catching up with Randy. We are good. Life is weird, but it is for all of us. I hope Briana’s bite heals!

By Michelle


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