Well. Grades are posted, weeks of backlogged emails have been addressed, oceans of laundry are done, and the dog has been walked. Finally, I can take a minute and write my letter to Santa:
I hope you are doing well and that you are not too stressed out about this season of joy. Since you are SO busy, I will get right to the point: I have been EXCELLENT this year. It's true, the dust bunnies managed a successful assault on the hallway and there was the time I fed the children leftover cheesecake for breakfast, and I did take my fifteen-year-old to see the raunchy R-rated movie "Campaign," but I have also personally--with my own hands--moved dying worms from the concrete sidewalk to the dirt and steamed broccoli almost every night this entire year. It seems to me that that should make me worthy of something, like, for example:
1. Clothes. It occurs to me that we are sending the wrong message to our children when we dress them better than ourselves. It sends the message that mom is worth very little. Is that really what we want them to think? I think not. I will take the burden on myself to teach my adorable offspring that lesson. If you're not sure about the size, gift cards or cash will suffice.
2. Furniture. I'm going to be honest, Santa. The couch has not been the same since you sat on it last year. It's lost its spring, and I have never liked that plaid. It is way too old man for someone as effervescent as me.
3. A new car. I know it's very bulky, but we're talking thirteen years, Santa. THIRTEEN!
4. A paint job for the house. The paint is peeling, Santa! Can't you get the elves on that? I mean, really, what do they have to do after Christmas? You can totally start in the spring.
5. A vacation house in Spain. The country is going through tough fiscal times! I could help the Spanish by spending a lot of money (you could give me that too) in their country! I am selfless that way.
6. Time. You can cover the globe in one night, but for the rest of us this world spins pretty fast. Really, I'd settle for a a couple days of lounging in the house. (Hint: it's not lounging if the adorable offspring are asking me what's for dinner and then complaining about the answer. In fact, to be brutally honest, it is not lounging if the adorable offspring are anywhere nearby.)
Now, Santa, a greedier person would keep going, but I am not greedy. I am the epitome of kindness and generosity (see #5). I will wait with bated breath for Christmas morning. If my stocking isn't spacious enough, feel free to bring a bigger one!