I know it’s been awhile since I’ve written, but I’ve been extra good this year and have some special present requests in mind.
I’m sure you still have the naughty-nice tracking thing going, probably digitized by now, but in case not, here are some highlights of my year:
My family has been fed nutritious meals, had clean clothes to wear and a (mostly) clean house to live in. Their social calendar has been kept, and appropriate friends and relatives have had presents and birthday greetings.
I’ve tried to listen more than talk, keep the bite out of my bark, be less embarrassing, put myself in others’ shoes, be charitable, thoughtful, friendly and kind.
I turned the other cheek during endless rounds of channel surfing, and opted to overlook a regular parade of odd teenage music, clothing decisions and wild makeup choices.
Heck! I bought Basil a Humpty Dumpty lamp to replace the one he mourns from childhood.
Plus, I work hard at my job, trying to get it all right, and I took on a new vocation this year — Jazzercise instructor — so I can help brighten and help improve others’ lives, even if only an hour at a time.
My list doesn’t include a black Lexus with a bow, DeBeers diamonds or sexy peep-toes (although all would be nice — my sizes haven’t changed). And as you know, I adhere strictly to my friend Jacquie’s rule about no gifts that have plugs, so I’m not trolling for a new vacuum or kitchen appliance.
I don’t even want a Snuggie.
Nope, my list is short and simple:
- Sleep — the kind that starts when I hit the pillow and ends in the morning, uninterrupted by climate control measures, odd dreams or a running loop of tasks to be done.
- Peace and harmony — no, not the Miss America variety, although that would be nice. I’m keeping it real: I want the people I live with to listen when I speak, take on tasks without being reminded, finish those tasks without me having to come behind them and put the supplies away. To notice the things that need to be cleaned, put away, folded or organized — and act on those observations. After all, no special certification is necessary. In 2012, I want to stop tripping over piles of shoes and book bags, moving piles of paper and emptying the sink of dirty dishes — it is NOT a holding pen, for crying out loud.
I’m not sure which of these requests will be harder to fill, or how you will get them in my stocking, but I’m counting on you, Santa. You’ve never let me down before.