Hmmm…. What do I want for Christmas?
Who has time for working out, working, and chasing two kids around anyway? Plus, right after the gift giving frenzy I’m supposed to make resolutions. Thusly, please put a treadmill under my tree, Santa. You will save me time if I can I get thirty minutes of cardio in while the chickens are entranced by their favorite PBS Kids show (Dinosaur Train, if you’re wondering). It is this two birds, one stone kind of thinking that has empowered all moms from the beginning of time.
A personal shopper, por favor? Someone who will outfit me in well-tailored and flattering clothes so my husband can stop accusing me of shopping at Costco for my going out clothes. (Um, caveat: Time to go out would be nice too. And if you could send along an Elf to launder and fold said ensembles, well, much appreciated.)
Round trip tickets to any of the following destinations: Barcelona, Sweden (I’m intrigued, Lisbeth Salander), Buenos Aires, Tokyo, and just because I’m a realist, someplace within the continental US… say Miami. No, scratch that. San Francisco.
A night of guilt-free naughtiness, the kind I used to have back in NYC when I was single (and hanging out with my then-best-friend-turned-husband). Before children, mortgages, college savings accounts… When I could keep my eyes open past 10 o’clock, and a bottle of cheap red wine was a mere aperitif for a midnight feast of burgers at the Corner Bistro in the Village… Bring me that Santa, and I’ll resolve to be nice for all of 2011.
And because I do love and cherish the city and environs in which I have been raised and now choose to raise a family, I ask for the following:
- A tour of the North End with Stephen Puelo
- Drinking beer in Southie with Dennis Lehane
- A cruise around Boston Harbor with Edward O. Wilson
- A moveable feast with Barbara Lynch
- Dinner at Scampo with any combination of the following attendees: Richard Russo, Doris Kearns Goodwin, Robert Allison, Tom Perrotta, David McCullough… I could go on, but knowing the likelihood of this, I will refrain.
If the above are too much to ask for, Santa, (especially from someone who has only recently started celebrating this holiday by way of marriage) then I will gladly accept the perennial gifts that my mother has always seen fit to bestow upon me: underwear, socks, a sack full of hotel shampoo from a year’s worth of empty-nester travels…
Best Regards, Ho Ho Ho, and the Like,