As a painter, Pablo Picasso had nothing on me. Sure, he had a Blue Period, but it lasted only three years. My Blue Period has lasted almost 25 years. Every time I’ve had a painting project it’s made me blue, which is the color of the master bedroom and the adjoining bathroom.

Since I am in the holiday spirit (and, having just consumed a mug of hot toddy, a glass of eggnog and a nip of cheer, the holiday spirits are in me), I have once again decided to follow in that great tradition of boring everyone silly by writing a Christmas letter.

That is why I am pleased as punch (which I also drank) to present the following chronicle of the Zezima family, which includes Jerry, the patriarch; Sue, the matriarch; Katie and Lauren, the childriarchs; and Dave and Guillaume, the sons-in-lawiarch. Happy reading!

Dear Friend(s):

Unlike a lot of seals, who have managed to gain steady employment in circuses and aquariums, I have never tried to balance a beach ball on my nose. Considering the prominence of my proboscis, nobody could tell the difference.

But I once was a seal trainer for a day at Atlantis Marine World in Riverhead, N.Y. I even have a framed certificate and a photo of me being kissed by a 465-pound sea lion named Herbie.

Don’t tell my wife, but lately I’ve been frequent ing a strip joint. It’ll sound even kinkier when she finds out that the joint is a dental center, the stripper is an orthodontist named Michael and his best customer is a patient who happens to be me.

Always a bridesmaid, never a bride: It’s the story of my life. But the hairiest part of the story is that I am the only bridesmaid I know with a mustache.

That is why I was not surprised to find out that I recently finished second in the Robert Goulet Memorial Mustached American of the Year Contest.

I have always been interested in current events except when it comes to electrical work. That’s because I am afraid a current will zap me in the event I tried to perform some mundane task like replacing a fuse, in which case I would either be eulogized with the words “ashes to ashes” or, even worse, get hit with a whopper of an electric bill.

So I was pleasantly surprised — but not shocked — when I recently passed a test from an electrician who showed me how to do simple repairs without burning the house down.