Every year, around this time, I ask Santa sweetly, politely, humbly with no malice aforethought, for one thing .... just this one thing! (No we are NOT talking about all the OTHER things I ask, beg, plead, pray, hope, stomp my feet and curl my lip for during the REST of the year.) This is about the magical Santa time of year. The few weeks that I clean up my not so nice / naughty act and jump on the SLEIGH ride to Christmas: the magical believing time of year. Here goes again (just proving that I do not lose hope or worse, lose FAITH) :
Dear Santa,I am writing to you once again from the unseasonably sub-tropical climes of a rather belligerent state known as Texas. I, not being of belligerent mind or state, inquire as to your good health and that of Mrs. Claus as well. I look forward to your annual nocturnal visit and promise if not to leave out cookies (which I tend to eat while awaiting your arrival) and milk, promise to leave you a gold box of Godiva chocolates as a small token of my appreciation for all you do during this, the most hustling bustling time of year: Christmas. Once again I will be working til the shop closes on Christmas Eve. As I wearily walk myself out to the back forty where my current mode of transportation awaits me (a gas guzzling energy inefficient on its last 4 wheels of a car) on Christmas Eve, I will be crossing fingers, eyes, teeth, legs, arms, hair and toes in hopes you will gift me, this year, my secret heart's desire ...... yes, Santa. That is the one. The red one with the lovely curvy profile and roaring V-8 engine on the inside. The 'vintage' model. No Santa, you've already gifted me with the roaring redhead and I did muchly appreciate the care you took in selecting her, but I was asking for something a bit more steely. Yes, Santa, the truck. The RED truck. Yes, the one with gear boxes and carburetor and enginey-piston type thingies. No, no, my desire does not have to be in perfect mint condition. I'll do the clean up work. She can have a few quirks and be slow to start. I've a patient and gentle hand. Snow and Christmasy trimmings are optional. I am, as always, already eternally grateful.
Red Dirt Girl