November 10, 2009
Santa Claus
The North Pole
Dear Santa,
It's been a few decades since I've written to you. I hope you are doing well. I assume I've managed to maintain my spot on the good list all these years. As you know, I'm a bit of a goodie-two-shoes. Well, mostly. You don't include the college years in your calculations, right? I also assume there's some sort of statute of limitations on childhood offenses, such as the time I put my middle sister in the dryer and turned it on. Of course, you know full well I only let her go around a couple of times and that she grew up just fine.
Anyway, enough about me. My daughter is going to be writing you a letter shortly. Well, I should say she'll be dictating a letter - she only knows how to write her name and a couple other words. She is going to be asking you for "the doll with the green thing on her head." I have no earthly idea what she's talking about, so I sure hope you know. Additionally, she'd like a dollhouse. Also, every product she has seen on a commercial over the past six months. Lately she keeps blathering on about how she wants a Big Top Cupcake. I keep telling her that an incredibly large cupcake is just . . . a cake.
I hope you will forgive me for using your good name each year in an attempt to extract respectable behavior from my child. I only do it in November and December, I promise. I need to send a similar letter to the Easter Bunny to apologize for the spring. Let's face it - evoking your name, however manipulative, can be very effective. All it takes is one little, "You know how Santa feels about dirty teeth!" and the next thing I know, there is a curly-haired girl sprinting into the bathroom and, shortly thereafter, a hunk of pink sparkly toothpaste is adhered to the inside of the sink.
Santa Claus
The North Pole
Dear Santa,
It's been a few decades since I've written to you. I hope you are doing well. I assume I've managed to maintain my spot on the good list all these years. As you know, I'm a bit of a goodie-two-shoes. Well, mostly. You don't include the college years in your calculations, right? I also assume there's some sort of statute of limitations on childhood offenses, such as the time I put my middle sister in the dryer and turned it on. Of course, you know full well I only let her go around a couple of times and that she grew up just fine.
Anyway, enough about me. My daughter is going to be writing you a letter shortly. Well, I should say she'll be dictating a letter - she only knows how to write her name and a couple other words. She is going to be asking you for "the doll with the green thing on her head." I have no earthly idea what she's talking about, so I sure hope you know. Additionally, she'd like a dollhouse. Also, every product she has seen on a commercial over the past six months. Lately she keeps blathering on about how she wants a Big Top Cupcake. I keep telling her that an incredibly large cupcake is just . . . a cake.
I hope you will forgive me for using your good name each year in an attempt to extract respectable behavior from my child. I only do it in November and December, I promise. I need to send a similar letter to the Easter Bunny to apologize for the spring. Let's face it - evoking your name, however manipulative, can be very effective. All it takes is one little, "You know how Santa feels about dirty teeth!" and the next thing I know, there is a curly-haired girl sprinting into the bathroom and, shortly thereafter, a hunk of pink sparkly toothpaste is adhered to the inside of the sink.
I've also mastered the art of frowning slightly and saying (in a meaningful tone of voice), "Oh, I don't know how Santa would feel about that." I like to think I know what disappoints you, Santa. I've been known to imply, in vague terms at least, that you personally gave me a hotline number that I can call any time to report transgressions. Don't worry - I only pretend to call. I know you're very busy. You've got all those brats who've appeared on Super Nanny to worry about. Can they ever truly be reformed and move off the naughty list? I guess you've got your work cut out for you.
I suppose that's it for now. If you could bring my daughter the "doll with the green thing on her head," that would be great. Oh, and I'm currently pondering a magic marker ban (did you know that dry erase markers stain like a mofo?), so none of those, please.
Your friend,
Claudia