Like most major retailers across our nation, Sarah has chosen to completely ignore Thanksgiving and has moved right on to Christmas. While cleaning her room last week, I found this piece of correspondence sitting neatly on her desk:
Brushing aside all issues of privacy and discretion, I opened up the envelope without hesitation to see what Sarah had to say to good ole St Nick.
This is a dramatic departure from last year’s list when Sarah had at least 10 items from which to choose. This year, she’s putting all her chips on the table and is asking for one thing…a phone. I should at least be grateful that she didn’t put an “i” in front of it but I doubt she’s imagining opening up a rotary phone on Christmas morning. And then, as an alternative, if Santa cannot cough up said phone, she writes, “You pick.” So simple yet so diabolical. I can imagine her sitting at her desk, tenting her fingers and whispering, “Excellent,” à la Mr. Burns as she crafts this note. She is basically testing the guy by saying, “Santa, you with all your magical skills and wisdom choose the one other item that would bring my little heart joy, fulfillment, and happiness. Let’s see you work for this year’s cookies, buddy.” Chris and I are going to need some serious strategizing this year.