Wendy and James Aadams Christmas Hour

At this time of the year I miss the family. I’ve ben locked away in this penitentiary for nine years now, most of the time it isn’t too different from home, less sand. Not as desolate. In fact quite noisy, but i like a certain amount of noise - after all, allows one to think to oneself. And if it gets to loud then I just tell the others, pasty-faced pigeon freaks, there’s a sale on bed-linen. Don’t ask me why that works. But at this time each year, my nephew and niece would be sent home from their school, Wendy and James. Their names, moron. Six months worth of pent-up naughtiness, oceans of opinions, a healthy disregard for anything sensible; Gosh, how the whole family would gather round to watch the unfolding disasters wrought by the hands of blameless children, how wonderful it was. Those Christmas’s, those I miss. Cute little poker faces. If anyone has heard of either of the two, please get them sent here.
Warm Regards, Bleddy