I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children
on
demand, visited the doctor's office more than my own doctor, sold
sixty-two
cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school
playground. I was hoping you could spread my list out -- over several
Christmases.
Since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back
of a
receipt in the laundry room between cycles; and who knows when I'll find
any
more free time in the next 18 years, so now - -
*** Here are my Christmas wishes ***
* I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (-in any color, except purple,
which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze;
but are strong
enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the grocery
store.
* I'd also like a waist, 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 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 doll that says, 'Yes,
Mommy' to
boost my parental confidence, along with 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 brother,' because my
voice seems to
be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the
dog.
* 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 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.
Well, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing, and my son saw my feet under
the
laundry room door. I think he wants his red crayon back. Have a safe
trip Santa, and remember to leave your wet boots by the door, and come
in and dry off, 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 with love and appreciation,
~A Mom
P.S. One more thing . . You can cancel all my requests, if you can keep
my
children 'young' enough to believe in Santa.
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