Just keepin’ it real here, December can be stressful with its tightly scheduled forced fun and maximal wallet impact. But since having children, looking forward to their Santa letters has given me a seasonal lift. I thought last year’s letter from the then-8 year old would be her last non-ironic one, and this year it would be all, “Dear ‘Santa,’ can we stop arguing about whether or not I can have an iPhone PLEASE.” But as the 2013 letter attests, the 9 year old still wants to believe! It’s a comedy miracle, excerpted below.
Dear Santa,
I really admire your work. I have three questions.
1. Some people in my grade don’t believe in you. (Not me.) What do you think of that?
2. Could you draw a picture of you and Mrs. Claus?
3. Have you always been Santa, or were you selected when you were, like, 20?
I’m sorry for all I did wrong this year (frowny face with a little tear.) I *am* getting better at impulse control, though!
Thank you greatly.
There is no actual need for additional commentary, the letter speaks eloquently for itself. But since she doesn’t have a iPhone yet and hasn’t found this blog, I can’t resist.
I want to start by complimenting the opening–”I really admire your work.” Smart kid to butter up the big guy before she asks the hard questions.
Item number one is a beautifully wrought example of passive-aggressive tattle-tailing. Considering writing back to her in my best Santa handwriting, “I think none of those little fuckers is getting anything but coal from me. Believe THAT.”
Her second item has me thanking my lucky Santas that I have a cartoon-enabled spouse. I hope he is limbering up his sketch book.
Item three tells me that she is wildly optimistic about what her future job search might be like. In fact, just the other day she was listing out her top three career choices for me:
1. Taste Tester for a Bakery (this DOES sound like a good job)
2. Glass Blower
3. Architect
Far be it from me to judge career aspirations since I am using time I could be working to let her unwittingly write a blog post for me, but.
She’s had her actual list picked out since approximately July, and it includes such items as a back scratcher, Pentaminoes (“you know the math thingies that you make into complex rectangles”), and “A big, original, Grimm fairytale storybook with all the original stories.” Also, “I sort of want princess lip gloss made by Disney Dist. by Townley Inc. 389 Fifth Ave NY, NY.” Not making that last item up. Love you, sweet 9 year old. Don’t ever change. Or, I mean, change all you want, but please stay crazycakes.
As for the 7 year old, making a list was unexpectedly emotional for him this year. There was wailing, gnashing of teeth, rending of garments, etc. His birthday and Christmas are only 10 days apart, and apparently he’d already asked for what he REALLY wants for his birthday, i.e. a mani-pedi and a shoe shopping expedition. Truly, he is my spirit animal.
Anyway, list-making was about 45 minutes of me throwing out ideas–Legos? No. Remote-controlled car? No, thanks. Books, games, puzzles, soccer ball, art supplies…? No, no, NO. He put his head down on the kitchen table in despair. Finally, finally he managed to come up with a travel alarm clock, some sew-on backpack patches, and a string of Christmas lights. New appreciation for the expression “old soul.” Because that’s only a weird list if you consider that its author is 7 and not, you know, 67. When I showed it to Husband, he said, “Good lord, we have to figure out SOME KIND OF TOY to buy that kid.”
So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to shop for back scratchers, backpack patches, and SOME KIND OF TOY. But first, shoe shopping and glitter toes. Wishing you a December full of laughing at and with the people you love.
amomynity 