A letter to Santa

I received this in an email, so I’m not sure where it originates. I can relate to most of it, how about you?

Dear  Santa,  

I’ve  been a good mum all year. I’ve fed, cleaned and cuddled my children  on demand, visited the doctor’s office more than my doctor, sold  sixty-two cases of choc 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 wash 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 colour, 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  lolly aisle in the supermarket.

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, Mummy”  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 tomato  sauce 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 ringing and my son saw my feet  under the wash room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a  safe trip around Australia , and remember to leave your dirty boots  by the door, and, come in,  keep cool and drink lots of  water (less of the wine – so you don’t become dehydrated or  sleepy!).

Help  yourself to biscuits on the table but don’t eat too many, or leave  crumbs on the carpet.

Yours  Always, MUM…!

P.S.  one more thing… you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my  children happy, healthy and always believing.

*Santa  has asked that this gets passed on to all the mummies you  know*

funny pictures
more animals
[weird coding of picture link fixed ~tigtog]

Categories: arts & entertainment, Culture, Life

2 replies

  1. Recommendation to the original writer: buy jeans in the right size rather than beating yourself up for not being an “appropriate” size or shape.


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