Dear Santa:
I am writing today to say, “You screwed me over.” You screwed me over big time. Look to the left,
Santa. What do you see? A smiling boy
and you.
I see a missed opportunity.
I see Santa Clause slacking off and depriving me of a treasured
moment as a parent – the screaming child picture. What is wrong with you? Do you not know how
to give a little pinch? Can you not whisper, “My reindeer love to eat two-year-olds.”?
There is nothing more horrific but yet oddly amusing about young children screaming like they are watching the stuffing being pulled out
of their favorite teddy bears. Tears
make great photographs. Childhood smiles are a First World indulgence.
So Santa, you owe me. I would like to you to scour the Earth and
steal every Elf on the Shelf cleverly hanging from chandeliers and sticking out
of silverware drawers. All stockings should be filled with broccoli and
carrots. Toys should be replaced with unwanted
clothes, and wanted clothes should be replaced with canned goods. All I want for Christmas this year are a few million crying children. If you follow my conditions, I will forgive you for not giving me this:
Garbageman’s Daughter
