"Been an awful good girl, Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight."
Dear Santa Claus,
It's been a year of kids writing on my floors, ruining wedding speeches, exposing various parts of my body in public, and stuffing things in my toilets.
I'm not complaining or anything, but I think I might deserve a little something nice in my stocking. I know you're probably too busy to run to Target or something, so I thought I'd cut down on your shopping time and give you my list.
1. I'd love to wake up on December 25th and be a size 6 again. That would be fab. Then I could wear my skinny jeans and actually be skinny.
2. A day of no whining-no hitting-no sass would be awesome.
3. A pool boy. With an accent. Who likes yard work. Can you have the elves put in a pool too?
4. A sound-proof craft room. 'Nuff said.
5. A week with Mary Poppins as our Nanny.
If anyone could get Michaela Byrd to eat, I bet it would be Mary. I'm sure she'd add a "spoonful of sugar" to those peas and carrots, but it would be worth it. While you're at it, Santa, please send Dick Van Dyke and the penguins. They'd be great entertainment for the kids while I lay out by my new pool.
6. A day at the spa.
And I don't just mean an hour-long massage either. I want a whole day where I can walk around in a bathrobe and be pampered and get a mud wrap and a milk bath and a massage and a pedicure and a manicure and a hair cut. That's not too much to ask.
So, that's my list Santa. If you can't make it happen, just send a Visa gift card. I'll make it work. I think this will make up for the trauma my children have inflicted on me in 2009. Don't make me call Mrs. Claus.