This, my friends, is the Frampton Family Crest:
Take a good look. A REALLY good look. Perhaps, look past the fact that it has no majesty or granduer in any way and it's just a chunky old man in his red long johns. Look for the symbolism. You know, the whole "read-between-the-lines" thing, but it's a picture instead. Or maybe we could use the phrase "Don't judge a book by it's cover" but say instead "Don't judge a family by it's crest".
Last year, my dear Grandma Dixie, was going to buy the Frampton Family (all 80 of us) a shirt with our family crest on it. Sounds like a pretty great idea right?! Perfect family reuinion souvenior.
Then.
We saw our family crest.
And that idea died a horrible death and was buried with no ceremony.
Well, I didn't think I would ever have to see our family crest again, until my Girls Night Out the other week at my cabin.
There we are playing a good round of Mafia, when I look around and see it. Framed. On the mantel above the fireplace. Obviously, the game stopped momentarily while everyone admired that historical picture.
We came to the conclusion that having a fat man in long johns really means our family will be prosperous. I mean, if you were fat in the old days you were royalty! So, we must be royal. And if you wore long-johns......you were, free? Yes. Free. So our family will forever be blessed with prosperity.
At least where food and pajamas come in to play.
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