Seems like only yesterday I wrote you all I wanted was my two front teeth so I could with you merry chrithmath. And here we are today, several fake teeth and numerous fillings, but my two front teeth are all mine, so thanks for granting me that small wish.
Then there was that bit of trouble, remember? I saw Mommy kissing you underneath the mistletoe that night. How was I to know Daddy was wearing your suit? I got sent to my room, but I didn't shout, I didn't pout. I knew about that list you keep and check twice. I did not want a couple lumps of coal instead of that Red Ryder BB Gun. Thank you, I see fine with one eye. It's not your fault. And it got me out of the draft back in '68, so all in all, that was another good Christmas for me.
I don't know what Grandma did to piss you off, or maybe it was just the worst time of the year for such a journey, the ways deep and the weather sharp, the very dead of winter, and all of that. But getting run over by reindeer is a hard way to reaffirm one's belief in myths. Did I say that? I meant the true spirit of X-mas and, of course, your existence, Santa. I shall be glad of another sale.
Last year I asked for RAM and got a whole herd of Bo-Peep's sheep. I meant computer memory, Santa. So, now that I know you have a low tolerance for ambiguity, I am going to keep this short, sweet, and specific, OK?
First, all I want is a room somewhere. You know, far away from the cold night air? Make it a big room, and soundproofed because when all the faithful come joyful and triumphant, they make a lot of noise. And no figgy pudding, sheesh.
Second, please bring You Know Who a puppy. I saw a doggie in the window, one with a waggly tail. Tan cute; its ears were grown long and its tail cut short. But the price was astronomical, so that little dogie can just git along, that's its misfortune and none of my own. Heah!
And, wow, did you pull a fast one on me last year! I was all happy knowing yes, there is a Virginia. And Pennsylvania. And Ohio. And Montana, of all places. Yes, Virginia and the others, si se pudo. I thought then we'd finally laugh, eat well, and grow strong, that no one will send us to eat in the kitchen, or Iraq, or Afghanistan anymore. Boy, was I wrong. My third wish: please wise up that pendejo in the White House. War is not Peace. Bring the troops home now.
As I promised, I’m keeping this short and to the point. Here’s hoping all your wishes come true, too. As you say, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night."