Let’s dispense with the whole “I’ve been good all year” bull shit. It demeans us both.
Anyone who has a relationship with Santa knows it is terribly lopsided. So let’s continue that with a list of things you can do for me.
1. I’d like a new car. Nothing that comes from the factories. It needs to be big enough on the inside to fit both my kids and all their crap and the man friend and maybe a couple of other people and a butt-ton of groceries. Then, in an act that defies the laws of physics, it needs to be small enough externally that I can actually park it worth a damn, and without the usual inhalation of breath and semi-squeezing shut of eyes and praying that generally occurs for me in parking lots. And make it a shade of blue I can’t actually describe to you, but I’ll know it when I see it.
2. Please bring me patience. I’d like it in easy to swallow pill form, a once a day kind of a thing. It would have to be extra strength, to last through the 50th daily reminder to brush teeth/flush/close the door after you/that you are neither “sexy” nor do you “know it”.
3. Let Amy Poehler finally, finally realize we are supposed to be best friends.
4. I want a crystal ball. Screw the future, doesn’t interest me. I want the ball to tell me what into the hell to make for supper. I’m inspired about one night every two weeks. The other 13 nights are filled with guilt and recriminations and pleading and resignation and take out.
5. I saved my biggest, best one for last. I want the ultimate slumber party with my sisters. Somewhere with big white fluffy robes and king sized beds all around. Every crappy junk food we ever loved (Ruffles, I’m lookin’ at you)
And we would make each other laugh til we nearly peed. And we’d watch Dirty Dancing, and So I Married an Axe Murderer and Muriel’s Wedding.
And recite nearly every goddamn line by heart, because we do it all the time and annoy everyone around us, but it would just be us, and it would be AWESOME.
So Santa, that’s it. Not a big list. Just five things. You got this, right?