Wish List

There seems to be some confusion over at Santa's workshop about this year's Christmas presents. When I mentioned to my dad something I might ask Santa for he said, "We already did all the Christmas shopping." To which I called not fair because they didn't ask once what I wanted. Normally, there's a week in which my mother pesters us to give her a list. But then Tuesday my mom told me that she told my dad to do all of the Christmas shopping this year and he has no idea what he's doing. I'm not surprised. Forced to make a decision about who the book went to and the pink Coach purse, I'm pretty sure my dad could correctly identify that I would choose the book and my sister the purse, but I don't think the Big Guy's had much to do with Christmas shopping other than writing "Love, Santa" on the tags, since he had to put together bikes when we were five. In any case, my dad keeps insisting that all of the Christmas presents have been bought and my mom keeps insisting that he has no idea what's going on. I'm inclined to agree with my mom on this one.

I'm personally fine with forgoing all presents anyways, because, though I like presents, I don't really care. I'd prefer to not buy anything for anybody and just spend all the money on myself on things I really want. About the only fun part of presents is that since my sister's married, her present budget has to be split in half, so now I get more presents than my sister. I consider this a fine argument against marriage.

My Christmas List (in case Santa realizes he hasn't done the shopping yet and wants some guidance):

1. 10 million dollars
2. California King sized bed
3. A wife

I need a bigger bed because since Sarah passed, Earl has been sleeping on the bed regularly. I know some people are anti-dogs on the bed, but I, obviously, am not. I like being all snuggled up with the dogs. Anyways, Earl's regular presence on the bed, plus the big pillow I put my legs on to help my back have reduced my area on the bed by a whole bunch. There's not a big margin for error. If I get in the bed first, we're usually pretty good. If Earl gets in the bed first he just fucks everything up. If anyone strays from their quadrant we are in big trouble. Heaven forbid anyone else were going to be in my bed. In short, I need a bigger bed.

A want wife à la Judy Brady article "I want a wife" because who wouldn't want a wife and I really feel like this could streamline my life. But, I'd be willing to settle for a husband with 10 million dollars and a California King sized bed.