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Mom's
Letter to Santa
Dear
Santa,
I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned, and cuddled my two
children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor,
sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade
tree on the school playground and figured out how to attach nine
patches onto my daughter's Girl Scout sash with staples and a glue gun.
I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases,
since I had to write this letter with my daughter's red crayon, on
the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who
knows when I'll find anymore free time in the next 18 years.
Here are my Christmas wishes:
I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache after a day of chasing kids
(in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that
don't flap in the breeze, but are strong enough to carry a screaming
toddler out of the candy aisle in the grocery store.
I'd also like a waistline, since I lost mine somewhere in the
seventh month of my last pregnancy.
If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like a car with
fingerprint-resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult
music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing
talking animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind
the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.
On the practical side, I could use a talking daughter doll that
says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along
with one potty-trained toddler, two kids who don't fight, and three
pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power
tools. I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting,
"Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands
off your sister," because my voice seems to be just out of my
children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.
And please don't forget the Play-Doh Travel Pack, the hottest
stocking stuffer this year for mothers of pre-schoolers. It comes in
three fluorescent colors and is guaranteed to crumble on any carpet
making the In-laws' house seem just like mine.
If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for
enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning,
or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it
being served in a Styrofoam container.
If you don't mind I could also use a few Christmas miracles to
brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare
ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would
be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house
without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized
crime family; or if my toddler didn't look so cute sneaking
downstairs to eat contraband ice cream in her pajamas at midnight.
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my daughter saw
my feet under the laundry room door. I think she wants her crayon
back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the
chimney and come in and dry off by the fire so you don't catch cold.
Help yourself to cookies on the table, but don't eat too many or
leave crumbs on the carpet.
Yours
Always,
MOM
P.S.
One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my
children young enough to believe in you.
~Author
Unknown~
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