I can only presume that my letter of last year did not reach you. I’m not sure whether to blame the U.S. Postal Service or some Internet bug, but I was sorely disappointed to reach all the way down to the toe of my stocking — down where I once would find a Bonne Bell watermelon lip gloss or other smallish treat — and find last year’s wishes hadn’t been granted.
Maybe I wasn’t good enough, although heaven knows I try. Once again this year, I have fed my family nutritious meals, cleaned their clothes and our home; I have kept our social calendars and the family on schedule; I have tried to be generous and kind to others, and jump in to help where I am needed.
As was the case last year, I’ve tried to listen more than talk, keep the bite out of my bark, be less embarrassing, put myself in others’ shoes.
I turned the other cheek during endless rounds of channel surfing, and opted to overlook a never-ending parade of odd teenage music, clothing decisions and wild makeup choices.
This year, I even endured sitting in the car while Catherine tried to drive — an outing that turned my hair as white as your beard.
There were lapses to be sure. But if you keep close watch on our family’s activities as everyone says you do, then even you can forgive my
occasional regular smart-ass remarks and off-color phrases.
I am only human, after all.
My list still doesn’t include a black Lexus with a bow, DeBeers diamonds or sexy peep-toes (although I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth). And we had to replace every last kitchen appliance this year, so I won’t be looking for anything like that.
Nope, my list remains 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 — no, NEED — 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 2013, 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 (still) NOT a holding pen, for crying out loud.
If anyone can deliver on these wishes, it’s you Santa. (And — just so we don’t again have a misunderstanding — would you please have one of the elves click the return receipt box on this email so I know you received my note?)