Merry Christmas from the discarded wrapping paper capital of the world

You know, I'd like to say the Brady jersey his grampy got him was the boy's favorite Christmas gift, but at the moment he seems extremely partial to a light pink doll stroller that matches the one his big sister got.

Gee, thanks, Santa. No . . . really.

Ah, you know I kid. While my Marinovich-like NFL stage-dad dreams are dashed for now, I of course adore my dolly-lovin' boy boundlessly. Besides, his sister is the tallest kid in her class, runs like Forrest Gump on a sugar high, and can catch a football with her hands - and she's only 3 1/2! Heck, Terrell Owens can't even catch the ball with his hands yet, and he's in his 30s (but 3 1/2 mentally, obviously). She'll be getting recruiting letters from Pete Carroll any day now, I just know it.

Anyway . . .

All of us at TATB (meaning, um, me) just want to wish those of you who stop here regularly (or even in a drunken stupor every now and then) a joyous holiday season. You make this fun rather than work, and for that I'm grateful. Celebrate, be safe, and be sure to check back in later in the week for more of our patented ridiculousness.

Peace,
CF of TATB