It's days like these that make we wish for three things.
- A fireplace. I want to sit next to it, curled up in a blanket while reading a good book. I've got the blanket. I've got the book. I don't have the fireplace.
- A big bathtub. You know, one for normal size people, not kids under five years old. I want to actually be able to lie down in it. That would be great. Oh, and the water needs to be hot. I mean, almost scalding. That would also be great.
- Finally, an in-home-at-my-beck-and-call masseuse. I shoveled so much snow yesterday that my arms and hands were numb. Not from cold, but from overuse. I could barely hang up the laundry after dinner last night. Today, when I woke up I could barely move. My arms. My back. My neck. Even my legs! Ummm... Ouch!
Maybe I'll write to you-know who.
I've been really good this year. At least, I've tried. I tried not to laugh during that over-acted roll play training meeting. I tried not to eat all the chocolate in a three mile radius from my house. I tried not to neglect my kids while I finished "one more chapter". See list above for my heart's desires.
I fear his reply would be something like this:
I received your letter of request for Christmas. I've reviewed your actions for the past year. I've come to the conclusion that I will be filling your request, at least in part. You've asked for much. Personally, I think you're being a little greedy. I'll tell you what. You get your own bath tub, and I'll send some bath salt. You get your own massuese and I'll take advantage of a nice massage when I'm there on Christmas Eve dropping off your coal (that goes in the fireplace you are in charge of getting yourself).
How does that sound?
Have a Merry Christmas. (Try harder next year.)