Dear Santa,
If the attached letter seems familiar to you it’s because I sent it to you last year. I wrote it myself right after breakfast on December 25, 2006. Today I got to thinking, and it hit me how December is the time of year that you get inundated with letters. And also, I started wondering about your filing system. I mean, Christmas is the type of holiday where once you cross things of a person’s list, I imagine you can throw the lists away. That of course got me a bit concerned. Perhaps in all the seasonal activity my letter from last year was ditched to make room for all of the new letters that are probably just now arriving in your mail box. Therefore, I thought it best that I send this to you again, as a simple reminder for when you deliver the gifts this year. I would really appreciate it if you would read the attached letter and commit it to memory.
Sincerely,
Belle
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Dear Santa,
What were you thinking, leaving three gifts under the small Christmas tree in Snags’ bedroom like that? I’m sure it seemed like a good idea at the time, but really, it was stupid, stupid, stupid.Snags woke up at 5:30 this morning. On any OTHER morning, he might have looked around and gone back to sleep. But not this morning. Oh no. He woke up, looked around, saw the three presents under the tree, and screamed “Santa came! Mom, Dad, Santa came! He left me presents under my tree!” and then he came careening into our room. He threw open our bedroom door in the same manner that guy in the kerchief from “Twas the Night Before Christmas” threw open the sash. He used such force it’s a wonder the door’s still on its hinges.
So of course, since there were gifts under his tree, he had to open them RIGHT THEN. And of course, since he woke the whole house, dog included, the dog had to go outside to do her business, RIGHT THEN.
My quick thinking husband, upon returning from letting the dog outside, came upstairs to say “I don’t see any presents under the big tree, so Santa must not be finished yet. We better go back to sleep so he can bring those presents.”
Of course, Snags was too excited to go back to his bed, so he stayed with me, and my husband went into Snags’ room to sleep. I then had to go retrieve Snags’ tag blanket, his Mickey Mouse doll, and his “good” Scooby Doo pillow. But since I can’t tell the two Scooby Doos apart, I had to bring both of them to him.
I thought that would be it, that me and Snags, along with Mickey Mouse, his tag blanket, the two Scoobys and our dog, Pee Pee, would all settle down and go back to sleep. But I was wrong.
Snags had to go to the bathroom and although he didn’t want to get up and risk delaying Santa even further, he couldn’t stop wiggling from the urge to pee.
I finally convinced him to just get up and go to the bathroom already, but, I insisted, he had to come right back to bed and go to sleep.
And he tried, he really did. But he kept hearing noises. The sound of your boots. The jingle of bells. And the sound of your boots again.
Eventually, as he listened to your clomping and jingling, he wiggled and squirmed his way back into an hour’s worth of additional sleep. Which I suppose I should be thankful for, it’s better than nothing, after all.
But at 7 am he was up and down the stairs faster than you could say “Merry Chr…”
So anyway, thanks for all the gifts and all. But next year, can you just leave them all on the main floor under the big tree? He’ll find them, really, he will.
Sincerely,
Belle (a very tired Belle)
Running With Books 