By: Amber Leventry
I know it’s been awhile, and I feel like we should catch up or something. Let’s be honest, though. Between kids changing their minds about what they really want for Christmas and at least one of my three kids constantly on the naughty list, neither one of us has time for chitchat. I’ll get right to it.
I recently asked my eight-year-old niece what she wanted for Christmas. Her response: A bell off of Santa’s sleigh. Please throw her parents a bone. This seems like an impossible request. I don’t know much about sleighs, but it doesn’t seem smart to just take one off. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.
This got me thinking about the last time I asked for something really magical. I often wish for the magic of quiet time or smooth bedtime routines, but those are not gifts I expect you to provide. You have the power to make bigger dreams come true. You have the power to make magically impossible gifts appear every Christmas morning.
I apologize if this letter seems early. I’m a planner and assume you are too. I don’t need everything on the below list. These are simply suggestions. I would be happy with any (or all) of these things wrapped up and waiting for me on Christmas morning. I try not to ask for much, Santa, but here is what I want for Christmas:
Anti-Gravity Food. You have seen them in action. And by them you know I am referring to my 17-month-old twin boys. Nothing makes me more irritated than watching them toss their food on the floor. I am so tired of food on the floor, in the dog’s hair, and stuck to the bottom of my feet. I don’t care if the food floats in front of their sweet little, berry stained faces. If you could provide me a spray or spell that will keep the food from dropping to the floor that would be awesome.
After Dinner Comb. The cousin product to Anti-Gravity Food. Why do kids like to touch their head so much when they eat? My boys’ hair smells like a food court. I need a comb that will allow me to clean their hair of yogurt, jelly, and peanut butter while removing chunks of fruit and cheese.
Free Booze. I’ll settle for a lifetime BOGO coupon for my favorite gin or beer. Maybe I don’t need a lifetime coupon but one that is valid until all of the kids are out of the house would be good. I know what you are thinking. Make the buy one, get one coupon good until they are out of diapers. Okay? I feel you judging me. Fine. Just leave some alcohol under the tree this year.
No More Guns. Enough with the guns already. Just make them all go away, all over the world. If everyone can’t use them responsibly and safely, then maybe no one should get to use them. This is good rule in our house. Perhaps this request is better suited for Hanukkah Hank, God, Buddah or another deity, but prayers don’t seem to be working. You have a lot of pull, Santa. Please make this happen or forward this on to someone who can fix the world’s fascination with gun violence.
Coffee. Ground, whole bean, whatever. Dark roast, light roast, I’m not picky. Those 3 lb. tins from Costco don’t last very long, so pour it on me, Santa.
Handles On All Children’s Clothing. With three kids, I need something sturdy to hold onto when they run away from me. I’m not into the leashes masquerading as backpacks. I don’t need to constantly hold their handle, but relocating more than one at a time is crucial.
Self-Cleaning Diapers. Pretty please?
Organize, Print, and Frame All Digital Photos On My Computer and Phone. Ideally, each year of photos will be made into a photobook with dates, titles, and witty captions. I’m about seven years behind, so have fun! Print the good ones. Michaels often has sales on framing, FYI. And while you’re at it, please burn all saved videos onto DVDs. Not all of them, just the good ones. And label the disks.
A Device To Turn Children’s Whining and Crying Into Music. Just like auto-tune masks a singer’s vocal flaws—inabilities—this device would mask the sounds that make me want to bang my head against the wall.
I realize this is a pretty big list. And I totally get it if these things are too much to ask. But try, Santa. Christmas might be for the kids, but I and all mamas and papas around the world have wish lists too. I promise to leave you a few cookies I made—not the ones the kids helped me make. If I don’t get at least some gin, I will not make the same promise next year.
I am not threatening you. I’m simply being very clear with what I need you to do and the consequences of you not listening.
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Originally published on The Seattle Lesbian
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