Short Story / Holiday Greetings from the Adorna Family

Very entertaining! An unusual take on the brag-letter, to say the least—a real feel-good letter any family member would deem heart-warming and be proud  of his/her relations upon reading.
There is a brand new memoir out with much time devoted to the way the sisters played with their family of Barbies, the revelation one day “we’ve turned into our Barbies!” and so on, and I think you do it a lot better. I saw your dolls on the shelf wanting make-overs for their new home. I like this phrase “unassembled Barbie paradise”, how you call the dolls “the gang”, how they look up from ‘their angled positions”, how you  named one of the dolls you, Jr., that you say of the dolls “They were speechless.” :)
I like how the littlest boy played Ninja turtles with the manger, your practicing rolling your eyes (didn’t everyone?),”clueless as to the necessary proportions for each ingredient” (I knew that was next but you choose the words well). Love “I’ve made breakfast” “No, you’ve ruined Christmas!” she said.
I understand that a square means quote marks from reading other works here. However when you see it transform when pasting text from your word program, can’t you delete the box and add quotes? ( “I think it’s probably pants . . . every year, I get pants.‿ )
A drying rack like to dry sweaters you hand-washed? Was this a joke?

Your next to last paragraph is a pretty one and the reference to pine startlingly setting off endorphins of pleasurable anticipation. I’m meaning, it’s common imagery of that season but you’ve invoked it’s power to excite and rejuvenate the weary.
‘The year Mahalia ruined Christmas’ opening your piece really pulls us in.

“In preparation for the move, the gang wanted fresh outfits and hairstyles. As I ripped the pink, plastic comb through Mahalia, Jr.’s black, plastic hair, her head smushed back and in her eyes I saw doubt and panic. I knew where it stemmed from. The sudden revelation that in the past, I had been wrong about these things. Last year’s much-anticipated Barbie convertible had turned out to be shoes. Two years before that, the husband I had promised Rena, turned out to be Stacey…”
There are a few problems in this paragraph. You needn’t bother with a comma after pink; pink plastic is fine. Would you say “I put in the black and plastic videotape”, or “I put in the black plastic videotape”? “I used the pink and plastic comb”, or “I used the pink plastic comb”? The only reason you’d need to isolate plastic here is if you had a choice of a pink metal comb, a pink wooden comb, a brown wooden comb and a pink plastic comb, to say you selected the pink and plastic one. If you haven’t already  referred to a comb made of another material besides plastic, you do not have to stress that you chose the plastic one. Even had you said “I ripped the snaggle-toothed, glitter-coated, dirty, pink plastic comb through her hair” no comma is neeeded twixt pink and plastic. Would you bother with “I poured a glass of cold, chocolate milk” had you not previously set the choices as cold white milk, cold chocolate milk, hot chocolate milk and so on? It’s not earth-shaking but worth knowing that you don’t need a comma when  the common description for the item and doesn’t ordinarily carry a comma.” With the cold, chocolate  milk you are stressing that an option besides both cold and chocolate had been previously presented and the cold and the chocolate both decisions you made.
But because comb-able dolls’ hair is not usually plastic, “black, plastic hair takes a comma; you want the reader to pause long enough to note that this was plastic, not animal hair or derived from spun fiber.(Commas denote pauses.)
Her head smushed back. This looks as though it belongs with a sentence like “She lay on the floor at unusual angles, legs in splits, head smushed back, face turned backwards and  hair trailing through a bowl of dog food.” Her head was smushed back is better than head smushed : I ripped the comb through her hair, her head  smushed back and in her eyes I saw doubt ” needs entirely different punctuation than you used for it.
I ripped the comb through her hair. Her head was smushed back and her eyes showed doubt.” But what does smushed mean? Her head was smashed, mashed, and bashed into a misshapen lump? Barbie isn’t known for a soft rag-doll face ; she’s not made of unbaked clay--how does her head or face get “smushed?” Bugs get smushed on the windshields of cars going 70 mph. And that’s really smashed or crushed. The marshmallow you toast over a fire on a stick might “look smushy”, or a gelatin teddy bear left at room temp too long. A head “smushed back” is not even something easy to envision. Her head only on the neck by a thread and her one soft spot--her cheeks—smashed till they looked sucked in, a victim of  my 180-pound father’s heaviest boots?  Is smushed a verb here?  Are we suposed to imagine that she put her head at that angle to show the feelings in her eyes? Her head drooped back? Then a period goes after  the dragging of the comb through painted-on hair, and then, “Her head drooped back and in her eyes I saw doubt  and panic. ” Otherwise it is “her head was drooping” or, “her head was smushed back”. The predicate and verb are “Head was”, not “head smushed.” Head was squished, not head squished—the head didn’t “smush”; something “smushed it.”  As I ripped the comb through her hair, her head pulled back, revealing eyes filled with doubt and panic, or, better, trepidation. I knew where it stemmed from. (Incomplete sentence: The sudden revelation that I had been wrong before. How do you make it into a sentence? “I knew where it stemmed from : the sudden revelation that (we’d been down this road before”.)                                                                      Bringing us to yet another puzzle, a new non-sequitor.                                                          
“The panic in the doll’s eyes stemmed from the sudden revelation that I had been wrong before”  is clearly telling us without equivocation that something had just been, suddenly, revealed to the doll. As in,
“You liar, Mahalia, Senior,” Sean said.” She needs to know the truth. You’re always wrong. Mahalia Junior wasn’t here last year when you told them that shoebox -looking present was a convertible for them, and then it turned out to be shoes. Nor are you leveling with her about how that new doll 3 years ago that you promised them was a husband for Rena, was actually just another girl doll--Stacey.”
I saw doubt and panic in Mahalia Jr.’s eyes at this sudden revelation that I’d been wrong before.”
But that doesn’t happen here.
You do not provide a revelation, sudden or otherwise. Whatever makes the doll’s eyes register  panic and doubt, it comes from what she already knows , even if she “suddenly” remembers it. The only revelation possible to her is the revelation that you comb painted plastic-alloid type material roughly.(you “ripped” the comb through her pretend hair.) That you’ve been wrong about “the toys’” Christmas presents before is  possibly a realization , or a “sudden” memory; it is not a “sudden” reminder (no one reminded her) or revelation (no one revealed it to her, let alone suddenly). You really need to white it out. The doll’s eyes reveal mistrust; you know from where it stems: your history of guessing wrong about these things. Resolving to give them peace, next paragraph, by the way. And the paragraph I said I like?  
“These events have the shine of age to them. They – kind of – twinkle like the colored lights on our tree. We remind ourselves, with handmade ornaments and the smell of pine, of our youth, and the hope for something amazing to come in the not-so-distant future.”  There is no place in good writing for “kind of”. It waters down the impact of the simile. And here, the commas I placed bring out the full flavor of the words you chose .
Why bother so fussily over so little? It is 100 of 900 words, quite a chunk, really, and with one of every 9 words flawed or part of poor sentence structure, revealing of the calibre of writer the editor must consider the future potential of as well as reject other manuscripts for if he is going to allow this author  the prestige of being one of the 12 freelance writers  he buys from this year. And, frankly, any instance of incomplete sentences or inappropriate word choices or iffy punctuation, along with the editor’s spotting any of his pet peeves that he outlined in an article  in Writer’s Digest earlier in the year under the heading “The 20 Quickest Ways to Get   Your Submission in My Trash Can ”, will not be over-looked because you seem sincere, or need the money, or because he can probably re-work it into something acceptable. Not unless the other 800 words are obviously going to make the piece a beloved classic. If the writing doesn’t stand out as superior grade stuff that his competitors will definitely suck right up if he doesn’t, and the competitor gain  enormous new circulation numbers with and then fame through its reprints in Best Of… anthologies, he has no compelling  reason to overlook the  flaws and the hints that the writer doesn’t  completely understand the basics of his craft. With all the perfect, fresh and innovative, exciting other submissions on his desktop, there is no reward in selecting a run-of-the-mill story or article that doesn’t stand out in any way, that presents flat material that’s been done again and again, that needs editorial intrusion or the magazine will be considered low quality—average writing that relays nothing that stays with the editor when he’s read it and read others’ submissions after it, writing or style that does not linger in his head or stories or ideas that don’t stick in his craw or seduce him into returning to it to re-live the pleasures it bestowed . He has little desire to select as the best  writing that which has not exemplified conciseness or beauty, clarity or rare stylistical originality. And, definitely, he has no obligation to finish reading, even, that with a collosial mistake hinging on a mis-definition of a simple word that was confused perhaps with another one beginning with the same letter. Many submissions come to him with 18 proofreadings and as many careful re-writes, each sentence with the Strunk and White seal of approval for their perfection of style, grammar, spelling , and appropriate employment of words. On top of this, many of these include stories, poems, astute observations  or contentions that are haunting and unforgettable, putting to shame what had passed as writing par excell`ence  before that day.
And he has the unenviable job of selecting only 5 or 10 for his magazine that  year; that’s what the budget allows or how much room his magazine will devote to out-of-house writing. The very first and easiest to let go of is that which demonstrates a so-so writer, a writer who needs a little bit of editing, who though  possibly a candidate for being brought up to “code” in such areas as spelling and grammar, doubtfully can be taught to make his writing arresting, unique, fresh, and the best. There is no reason to encourage him, no room to have mercy on him, no gain in reading his piece any further than  the spot where it first reveals itself to be  part of the 90% that is mediocre  and bland. When the editor reaches that part that tells him “the usual fluff”, the eagerly written,  over-simplified little lessons with their brief stabs at warm and friendly humor, their ego-centric little high-regard for the dear  children the authors once were, their  fireside chat tone, their obsession with the authors  who proudly did this or that as a little tyke and weren’t they just so adorable and see how they  look back on their romanticized little selves with whimsy and affection, aww, isn’t that cute, and how they ‘ve learned to tie every story up in a nice neat little bow, a few stale fuzzy-warm conclusions, twinkling eyes and a wink at the four million readers they’ll never have. It is not his job to smile and say “we’re all brothers and sisters, we all need to support and reaffirm each other’s worth, this person is too nice, too sensitive, too happy in his delusions to mail his manuscript back to him when all he wants me to do is to accept him as a competent writer, and validate him as a genuine person with something good to say—I’ll just go ahead and make his day.
“After all, he’s got  most of the mechanics of the craft down, and has only one or two paragraphs that demonstrate his over-eagerness to deliver pat phrases without thinking through what they are saying, or not saying—if readers gloss right over them like he did, no one will be the  dumber for not catching on  that a few of the words he selected have no place in the piece.  I’ll put it in our magazine, and feel all warm inside, because I lent this person a little more dignity than they’d get, otherwise.”
An elementary school teacher is the one who thinks like this. Editors’ and publishers’ incomes and happiness depend on their skill at discerning that top-flight writer; on seperating the wheat from the chaff, on being brutally honest when it comes to rewarding talent and ignoring those without a speck.
.
I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve opened up and shared with me, and you think you’ve given it your best shot, and you don’t see how anyone can  find fault with your little vignette. But an editor, a publisher, can’t afford not to be ruthless, and unless you have trained yourself to recognize what the best is, and can see what the editor sees, and can top what he’s seen, you are  a candidate for just another form rejection letter.
And there’s no quicker way to yank yourself out of the running, all by yourself, than to say something sloppily, and not even notice that it doesn’t make sense, and send it off with unrealistically high expectations, without discovering and fixing it first.
That’s why I couldn’t let you slide on your “little” mistakes. If you don’t know them, you’ll repeat them.
And I know that’s not your ambition. And I want to help you realize what your ambition is, if that can be possible.
I can only try.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

This was a cute story, but the Christmas letter theme didn’t really come off.  It would be fine to just tell the story, and call it “The Year Mahalia Ruined Christmas.”  Feel free to exaggerate to make the story funnier—the decorated tree falls on her brother or she catches the kitchen on fire making the eggs, etc.  It has to be really absurd destruction to warrant the phrase “ruined Christmas.”  

I particularly enjoyed the conversation with the dolls.  More such images would really get the reader inside the mind of a child at that time of year.

One technical note on punctuation.  I had the same problem and still fight it now; the heavy use of commas.  I find as I’m writing that where I pause to expound on a thought, I’ll add a comma.  It serves to make the sentence choppy and interrupt its flow:

I knew where it stemmed. . .  revelation that in the past. . .  these things.
I knew where it stemmed from; the sudden revelation that I had been wrong about these things in the past.

On Christmas Eve, I lie awake . . . other neighborhood children.
On Christmas Eve I lie awake but not for the usual reason. I was trying to form a plan to get back in my parents’ favor so they would be filled with the Christmas spirit, lift my sentence, and allow me to revel in the Christmas afternoon high with the other neighborhood children.

Good job!

I don’t like the ending at all.  She ruined Christmas, which I cannot understand how a good parent would say this even though the eggs were runny.  Is there a way to save christmas again.  Also, you just go straight from the tour of the house to going into the end of the actual letter.  Make this transition more smoothe.  Honestly, your style if fun, and I am pulled along without complaint until the end.  Although, your climax of the ripping of the box could be more exciting, or is the climax when mom found out?  Who knows, as the reader I don’t.  Maybe more sensory details also.

This was cute, I’m not too sure about the letter format.  I remember being the one who had ruined Christmas too, so identify with the main character.

I enjoyed this short and funny piece. I liked the tone of it which fitted with your ‘obnoxious family christmas letter’ genre – sort of bright and cheery and the wonderful cheesiness of the last two paragraphs! I loved the personification of barbie and the gang, that was funny, and I loved this line: ’...her head smushed back and in her eyes I saw doubt and panic.’
I wondered if ‘denouement’ was a bit much of a word… but then I imagined the writer of such a letter may have carefully chosen it!  
Anyway, thanks, it make me smile.

This was very well-written, though I’m not sure the ‘Christmas Letter’ format was the best way, since it did not include the past year’s happenings.  Does this make sense?  I was expecting to read about the family, i.e. Hey gang, Shaun’s been parolled for the Holidays, Mom’s addicted to Bingo, very tongue-in-cheek type of news.  Instead, we read about the Christmas Mahalia ruined.  This was a great story, but I think it could have stood alone, as that, instead of the format you chose.  Just my opinion.  But it was extremely funny.  Great job!