A Very Brunstetter Christmas


This year, I have to say, is going down in the books, and all was captured by my fancy new diggie cam that is NOT the size and weight of a can of hefty chef boyardee. Sweet.

We started off with a strange sasauge hiding in the bread warm bread breakfast thing, then off we went. Per my suggestion, we started out by having my bros and me distribute our gifts to each other and rents, as we are now sort of adult-like people and no longer give each other bubble gum and little porcelain animals. From me, cute things circulated which I was pretty stoked about: pretty turkish trivettes for Mom, Cormac McCarthy’s The Road for Dad, a vintage German dictionary for Pete, Big Trouble in Little China for Tim, and The Wall Street’s guide to investing in Real Estate for Dan. From brother people, this happy sis racked up starbucks bucks, barnes and noble bucks, and a really pretty necklace which Tim’s girlfriend lovingly selected.

Mom scored a sweet salt and pepper shaker set, which are also not so secretly Mr. and Ms. Claus, Making out.


The boys scored some sets of man tools, of which I was envious. Pete was stoked, Dan was his flippant morning self.


Dem boys all gave each other and my Dad remote controlled air-things. Planes, sea-land vehicluars, helicopters, what have you. With the nerf guns my Mom gave to boot, what followed thereafter was a rackous good Brunstetter time, which shall now be pictorally represented.

Maybe we chased each other around with nerf guns. Maybe we did that.





And then, naturally, little airplane things were flown.


In conclusion, this: I love my family.

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