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To
Everything There is a Season: . A Time to Weep, A Time to
Laugh.
Ecclesiastes 3
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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 son'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 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 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 brother,' 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 Playdoh Travel Pack, the hottest stocking stuffer this year for
mothers of preschoolers. 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 his
pajamas at midnight.
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is
ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he
wants his 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 a 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 Santa.
Return to A Time to
Laugh HOME from Mom's Letter to Santa
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