Dear Mr Santa

 

Hi Santa

It’s me, Fee.  I know I haven’t written to you for quite some time and I thought it was time I put that right.

Firstly I owe you an apology.  For years I asked you for a Mr Frosty slushy maker.  For years I was bitterly disappointed when you didn’t leave me one. I know as a grown up I could have spent my own pocket money on one but that just isn’t the same.  Adding it to my Amazon basket lacked the sparkle and the promise of unwrapping in on Christmas morning.

So I didn’t bother.

 

Which was a good thing wasn’t it?  In the end I realised you never bought me one, not because you are a crotchety grump out to crush every bit of joy  from my life.  Nor are you a cruel disregarder of dreams.  Sorry about that letter, 9 is a difficult age.  No you never munched the mince pie and left me my hearts desire… because it is crap.  Santa, thank you for saving me from a cheap plastic nightmare that simply doesn’t work they way they did on the advert.

Now I have been a good girl and said sorry I must implore you not to send my daughters the mountain of equally shoddy kits they are writing to you about.  They have been dazzled by adverts that promise them the possibility of making everything from chocolate lollipops, snow globes to badges, bracelets made of buttons and weird bendy strips of something rubbery. They say they want the game passed purely on scooping the poop of a sausage dog Santa.

Now Santa, I know you like small children and I have very cute children.

 

Both my daughters look like this Santa.  They have huge eyes and little chubby cheeks.  When they are happy they are very happy and when they are sad….  well

 

I know it is going to be hard Santa, but please stay strong.  Don’t be swayed, you never gave in to my wobbly bottom lip. Bring them educational toys, books or adopt them a snow leopard, those constant adverts imploring people to do just that must cost them a bomb.  Give them a satsuma, a magic set and a letter telling them they’ve bought a well in an African village and maybe a nice spa set and some vodka for me.

I am leaving this matter in your hands Santa.

Love and kisses

Fee Hutch

Aged 33 and a halfish

P.S Can I have some cherry red doc martins, my last pair were too big and I looked like a clown in them.  Also I would please like 2 nights in a posh spa, 30something on DVD because it’s never been released over here – what’s that all about?!  They have Pepsi Max in Japan now that apparently blocks fat or some such now Santa.  Do you go to Japan first?  We share a similar girth so I am sure you will have plenty of bottles left out for you, sharing is nice so stick one on your sack for me please?

I’d also like a pair of tortoise bookends, a real tortoise, Elizabeth Arden 8 Hour Cream because a girl needs help and can I adopt a panda?

Thanks



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About the author: Fee Hutch

Fee Hutch

Blogging with youtube links in like shouting from your soap box with a lovely soundtrack. I write about music, movies and memories mostly. Motherhood, ukuleles, health, a distinct lack of wealth and geekery sometimes sneaks in.

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