Monday, December 15, 2008

Dear Santa:

I have tried very, very hard to be a good mom this year.

I almost never send my kids to bed early without good cause.

Usually most of the shouting that occurs throughout the course of a day is in my own head, I do everything I can not to let it out through the mouth.

It would appear that (so far!) neither of my children know any 'naughty list' vocabulary words (although I would ask that you not quiz them).

And even when the children do commit behavioral discrepancies subjected to the North Pole court of justice, I almost never laugh out loud and usually even insist on an apology to the offended party.

I'll get to the point.

I want a nap. A looooong , luscious, uninterrupted nap, ALONE, in clean and crisp sheets washed by someone other than me. New sheets wouldn't hurt, but I won't be picky. The nap is the important part.

I want a day off and a wad of cash with no list of family necessities involving clothing that will be stained or outgrown with a week for small creatures besides myself, or cleaning products meant to polish the throne of toddlers who are still developing their 'aiming' abilities (we'll just keep blaming the kids and let dad off the hook for the time being. See how 'good' I am, Santa?).

I want a vacation. A real one. It doesn't have to involve a passport. Just a getaway car. No portable DVD players or goldfish crackers allowed.

And lastly, I want you to use your damn Christmas magic to scare cold and flu season (and all other infectious and non infectious illnesses) as far away from Atascadero, Ca as it can possibly go, never to be seen or heard from again. If it can not be all together obliterated, I'd take a voucher that could last until next Christmas when I can ask for it again assuming my continued good behavior thru 2009.

I'm really depending on you, Santa. Good kids are, after all, only as good as their parents, no? And I know I have good kids. So I'm thanking you in advance for your co-operation in these matters. I wouldn't want you to accidentally eat a poisonous cookie in our neighborhood on your big night, big guy (wink, wink!).



P.S. I have taken the liberty of attaching our kid's wish lists also in the photos below. The impostor in the Santa trailer downtown insisted on keeping the darling little letters, but we know how you don't really need a hard copy anyways... and after all, a picture is worth a thousand words. So just bring us the loot, and make it snappy.

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