It seems I owe you an apology for my brusque demeanor upon your departure.
I would, in fact, like to thank you for your gracious presence at our Thanksgiving dinner; your unannounced arrival was a considerable surprise to us all and your presence enlivened what would otherwise have been a quiet, family tradition.
I must extend my heartfelt thanks for your most generous gift of a Turkey, and, as I reflect back upon David and Jemima’s excited squeals as they chased it around the dining room, I must agree with you: one is never too young to understand where one’s food comes from.
Thanks to your impromptu critique, David has abandoned his plans to be a writer. Second grade, I’m sure, is exactly the time to be making such decisions.
It was most fortuitous that you happened upon my case of Chateau LaTour, which, in retrospect, was a much more fitting accompaniment than the Chilean Shiraz I had selected. Not everyone could enjoy the fourth bottle of a hundred dollar wine as much as the first.
We were thrilled that you also enjoyed my wife’s handmade bread rolls. By the way, my Aunt Elizabeth has always been of a very delicate disposition; we are sure she will make a full recovery and, when she awakes, will look back on your impression of a hot dog with amusement rather than mortification.
It is hard to believe it has been only two weeks, yet the heady aroma of your Russian cigars is already beginning to fade. Incidentally, if you recall where you left my sterling silver ashtray, please write back.
My apologies for not writing sooner; I would have sent an e-mail, but I seem also to have mislaid my new Macbook Pro.
In closing, my wife asks me to tell you, you must stay longer at Christmas. Are you really planning on visiting us at Christmas too?