Dear Santa ...

Dear Santa,

My name is S, and I am 5. I've been a very good and nice girl this year -- you can ask anyone! Just not my brother, okay? I hope you and Elves are doing good ... I bet your vacation in Hawaii was nice and warm. For Christmas, please bring me a Lalaloopsy doll. I know I told Mom I wanted the Magic Dancing Palace Pet Pumpkin ... but really ... just the Lalaloopsy will do!

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Dear Santa,

I am L. I am 2. I've tried to be good. I really have. But being 2, almost 3, is a lot harder than I thought. I get told No so many times a day, I'm starting to think its part of my name! And my sister?! Well ... she hit me first. I just returned the favor. Don't worry about the cat, either ... I didn't hit him hard! As for a present, please bring me a really big car. If it makes a lot of noise, even better. And maybe if you could sneak in some rocks or spoons, my hands would be grateful.

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Dear Santa,

Victor the cat, here. Listen ... I don't care if you don't bring me anything. But please ... do something about these kids. One won't stay out of my face. She's constantly scratching my butt. And she brushes my hair in the wrong direction. I try to get her to stop ... but I have no claws, so she just thinks I am playing. The other one chases me, roaring like a dinosaur. I know they really are good kids ... so maybe at least you could bring them both a muzzle? They talk too much.

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Dear Santa,

Hello from Daddy M. Its been a long year. Short, really ... but long. You know. Work is tiring. The prisoners are knuckleheads. The VA is a total pain in my butt. But what can I do, right?! It would be great if you could bring me a new job. You know ... a Monday through Friday normal job. No tie wearing, preferably. I promise ... whatever it is, I won't complain. Much.

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Dear Santa,

All I want is a silent night. No, seriously ... these kids need sleep. This MAMA needs sleep. Something's got to give, right?! I'll follow the doctor's orders for behavior modification, discipline reinforcement, and nighttime routines ... can you just sprinkle your magic Santa dust over them, and make sure the plans work?! Its all I want. Really.

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Dear Santa,

My name is House. Aka home. Casa. Humble abode. Dwelling place. Crash pad. Whatever people want to call me. Unfortunately, they haven't been calling me "clean" much lately. Care to see to it that something get's done about that?! Give the lady who lives here an extra set of hands or something ... one to tend those crazy kids that color on my walls and dump nutmeg all over my carpets, and the other set to clean up said messes. I may not look completely discombobulated, but I'm starting to feel that way. In return, I'll make sure you don't get hurt, tripping over lincoln logs or barbie dolls, on my watch.



Thanks Santa -- from the "C" Family