Santa Baby!

I just read through my seven-year-old’s letter to Santa that describes exactly what she’d like for Christmas.

It opens with the conditional

“If I’ve been good this year, here’s what I would like…”

It closes with the imperative

“…I don’t expect all of these things, but at least the first three.”

Of course, the first three add up to roughly $8,000.

What’s good for the gosling is good for the gander (or the goose), I always say.  So, Santa, assuming I’ve been good this year, here’s what I would like for Christmas … and I don’t just want the first three, I want them all:

1. Better skin. Look, if you can circle the globe in one night and shimmy down chimneys in your portly state, you can find a way to reduce my sun spots and bring back that youthful, rosy glow.
2. A decent singing voice. I don’t need to sound like Whitney Houston, but I’d love a voice that doesn’t peel paint.  My family and neighbors would love that, too.
3. Perfect posture. Let’s pretend I didn’t spend years of my life hunched over to nurse, pick up, piggyback, and play with my kids, not to mention the time I still spend as the Human Pillow. Let’s assume that my shoulders really aren’t earrings.  On Christmas morning I want to wake up with a graceful neck, all the curves that should be in my spine and none that shouldn’t, and not a vertebra out of place. While you’re at it, let’s make me six inches taller.
4. A trip. Really, I don’t care where. Skiing, the beach, mountain climbing, deep-sea diving…surprise me.  I just want someone else to plan it. Oh, and pay for it.
5. The culinary talents of a gourmet chef mixed with the speed of a short-order cook balanced with the dietary knowledge of a nutritionist. Tasty, quick, and good for you!
6. Long curly auburn hair, that doesn’t look like I went to the salon for the hair extensions/dye job/perm combo. Let me rephrase: naturally long curly auburn hair. You can give my short, strait, brown hair to a Beatles fan.
7. Jeans that are comfortable and flattering. Oh, okay, you’re right, they don’t exist. Just another 3-pack of cotton sweatpants, then.
8. A one-year subscription to the Handbag of the Month club. I don’t know if this exists, but it should. Every time I shell out big bucks for a fab handbag, I’m sick of it within a month.  Imagine every month getting a new handbag that’s seasonally appropriate and at the height of fashion, and then getting a new one 30 days later.
9. A dishwasher that, get this, cleans dishes. My current model creates small flecks of sand-like pellets that cover the glassware on the top rack, and then blasts heat to permanently affix them there.  Which leads to me scrubbing bone-thin crystal stemware in the sink that invariably snaps in my hand, bringing me to Wish No. 10…
10. A new set of stemware.

Actually, Santa, if I could truly wish for anything in the world, I’d wish for what I have:  cute kids, a loving husband, good friends, my health, and no pets. So why don’t you just bring me a year’s supply of peanut M&Ms and we’ll call it a night?

Cara Garretson is a freelance writer outside of Washington, DC, who can't wait to start the new year as a 5'9" redhead with great handbags. Check out her recent Time Out columns:

• Modern Convenience
• Pinch an Inch
• Like Mother, Like Daughters
• Good Morning Sunshine!