MODERN DAD | By Jon Show

Dec. 6. My family Christmas card has been an annual burden since 2005, when The Mother of Dragons and I got married and sent out our first holiday card because she wanted to start sending holiday cards.

It began on a Saturday night in early December, when we were sitting at our condo island, drinking cheap wine and eating steaks I made on a George Foreman grill.

Somewhere into the second bottle she suggested we get dressed up and take a photo in front of our two-foot-tall Christmas tree, because that’s the only size tree we could afford.

I put on my wedding suit. She put on a dress. We took a picture with our digital camera because we still owned flip phones.

After we took the photo I pointed to her and said, “Ok let’s switch.” She said, “Like, sides of the tree?” And I said, “No, clothes.” She agreed to it much easier than I expected.

So we swapped clothes, snapped the picture and decided it should become our holiday card that year with the message, “We hope your Christmas is as beautiful as our marriage.”

Thus began now going on 19 years of trying to come up with a card that somehow amuses me and my wife without offending others. Yes, I realize the first one probably wouldn’t fly in 2024.

Jingle all the way

Our best cards usually write themselves and require no extensive thought or staging. I usually add an accompanying poem or limerick.

There was the year lice lady Barb, whose services we have required four times in 10 years, graced our card with pictures of her de-bugging everyone’s hair.

The final line in the poem that year: “Call Lice Lady Barb at once, no matter the price. Is bald really beautiful? Well Jon didn’t get lice!”

Another year we found out the Google Street image of our house showed Future Man and his friends playing out front, their faces blurred out.

The card that year was the Google Street image with Future Man, shirtless in the driveway wearing a lacrosse helmet and raising a lacrosse stick above his head like he’s going to war. Right next to him is a neighbor’s kid flipping the middle finger.

I used to be a graphic designer in a previous life, so I like to play with the images when we have a good idea.

One year I put all our heads onto a Frozen II poster and titled the movie Show-zen.

Another year I put my wife’s head onto the nude back of Kim Kardashian, who famously “broke the Internet” when she posed a few years back for Paper magazine.

Maybe my favorite of all time was the year we took a family picture and I Photoshopped all of them bald and gave myself a glorious, and I mean GLORIOUS head of hair, accompanied by the following poem.

“Each year we send a holiday greeting. Hair looking great but Jon’s was receding. This year we’re making changes, the decision has been called. Jon gets hair and the family goes bald.”

I work in the media business so current events are often a common theme. My favorite was the year I got a picture of Future Man lounging with a lollipop and I put a sign behind him that read “I am the 99%,” in reference to the Occupy Wall Street movement.

The poem was titled, “Occupy Christmas, a poem by Future Man.”

“Cleaned my room and finished my plate. Did my chores and went to bed straight. Now I can’t sleep, got a scratch I can’t itch. How come Santa’s the one who’s fat and rich?”

Bad Santa

There have been misses over the years.

Our second year of marriage we posed next to a vinyl Christmas tree wall-hanging at our friend’s house because I thought it was funny. Meh.

There was the year we moved to Cornelius in late fall and I nearly forgot about the card so we used a Halloween picture. Uninspiring.

Another year I used pictures of all of us holding fish we’d caught, with the Mother of Dragons holding a can of tuna because she refuses to go fishing. Humdrum.

Then there was our dog’s first Christmas when I sent a picture of Lightning on her back, spread eagle on the kitchen floor. Tasteless.

As the kids get older it’s become more difficult to get them to approve of our cards. To be honest, I don’t really blame them. I don’t care. But I don’t blame them.

Last year my daughter came up with the idea to have everyone dress up like someone else in our family.

The Blonde Bomber wore a bald cap with my Rocky IV shorts and high school basketball jersey. The Mother of Dragons taped bananas to her head to mimic the absolutely ridiculous hair poof sported by our son at the time.

I, as my daughter, wore a crop top and lululemon shorts and my hair was a white floor mop. Future Man would only don the floor mop on his head and the angsty look of a teenager who declined to dress up like his mom.

The card was signed, as it has been every holiday season for the last 10 years: Show Ho Ho.

Nightmare before Christmas

As I write this in November, I have no idea what our card will be this year. It’s not uncommon for us to reach early December and still not have a good concept. Like I said, it’s fun but it can be a burden some years.

If you have any ideas please send them my way. And if you happen upon Future Man please communicate your disappointment in his unwillingness to dress up like a 40-something woman for our card last year, preferably in limerick form.

Hey dude, come on, what’s the matter? No dress?

Do better! It’s Christmas! What the heck, God bless?

‘Tis the season to be merry.

Of your dad’s ideas, don’t be wary.

It’ll give you something in adult therapy to express.

Show Ho Ho

Jon Show lives in Robbins Park with his wife, who he calls “The Mother of Dragons.” Their 16-year-old son is “Future Man” and their 11-year-old daughter is “The Blonde Bomber.” Their dog is actually named Lightning.