I don’t want a lot for Christmas this year, just a couple of things. They would make my life so much easier. You’ll see when you get here, exactly what I mean.
I want a toilet seat that magically absorbs pee. Or a whole bathroom, rather, that will clean itself after each use. And while you’re working on the bathroom, maybe install some sort of device that will replace the toilet paper too. Right side up, of course. Oh, and put a dispenser on it that will lock up after a few sheets are pulled. Then I won’t have to plunge after my sweet child uses nearly an entire roll each time he poops. Or maybe you could just build an outhouse in our backyard. That might work too.
I want carpet that won’t stain. Not the kind that says it won’t stain but then your toddler squirts bright green acrylic paint all over it and Google lies to you thirty different times with “foolproof” ways to get it out and it still stains. Or maybe, Santa, while you are in here, just remove all the paint. And markers. And crayons. And chalk too. That should do.
I also want a couch with springs that won’t break. And velcro kitchen chairs, with matching velcro socks and shoes that my kids can’t remove themselves. I know this sounds extravagant but I just don’t have the money to pay for ANOTHER ER visit, during which the nurses look at you with a look that says “maybe you should watch your kids.” I DO WATCH THEM. I watch them fall to the ground after I’ve repeatedly told them not to stand on their chairs. I guess maybe we should just get rid of the couches, chairs, and tables altogether. That might be easier.
And Santa, I really want a stove that cooks its own dinners. A fridge that stocks itself would be nice too. And a pantry that never runs out. Maybe knives that spread the peanut butter and jelly automatically. Oh and lunch boxes that pack themselves with seemingly healthy food so the teachers don’t catch on to the fact that I let my kids eat junk. Not all the time, we do organic sometimes. Well, I guess just that once. Maybe you could just bring me a personal chef.
And while you are here, sprinkle something on our grass to keep it from growing. Nothing that will kill it, I want it to still look alive, just something that will prevent my husband from having to cut it. And sprinkle that stuff on the leaves too, so they don’t fall.
And I want dogs that don’t pee or poop or bark or puke.
Oh, and Santa, could you please visit our car and build some sort of suction system so when the kids drop and throw food, wrappers, boogers and toys, they will just disappear?
And if you are going to send our dear Elf on the Shelf back next year, can you give him actual magic so he can do cool $#!@ all by himself. I just don’t have steam at the end of the day to try to figure it out.
And Santa, can you potty train my two-year-old? He has absolutely no interest. I know it will come when he’s ready but I’ve been buying diapers for FIVE years straight. My pocketbook and my sanity need a little break.
I think I want a house, and everything in it, made of rubber, too. Walls that my boys will bounce right off of and things that won’t break when they fall to the floor.
Kids that like bedtime would be nice too.
Santa, I know this seems like a lot but it’s really not. I just want my life to be a little easier.
Or maybe, Santa, just take me to the North Pole with you when you go.
Wait, but I don’t like snow.
Drop me off somewhere warm and sunny; a tropical island.
Is that too much to ask?
An exhausted mama.
P.S. If I’m not on your nice list, YOU’RE gonna end up on a certain list of mine…