To Santa from Mom

Dear Santa,

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 doctor and 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
anymore free time in the next 18 years.

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 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.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is calling 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 door.
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. (you promised me last year you would lose
some weight with me so next year you and
I could be a cute size two blonde...ok, some requests go too far,
but none the less.....

Yours Always,
MOM...

P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep
my children, healthy, young enough to always believe
in Santa, and of course to always remember the real reason for this holiday season!!


"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own
understanding, in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall
direct your paths."
Proverbs 3:5-4