Hey there! Listen, I know this is a busy time of year for you, and I’m a little late in getting this out. But you’re in luck! Instead of a list of things my little heart desires, this is a list of things I DO NOT want you to bring me. So, this should be easier. I do what I can.
Please DO NOT bring me the following:
1. Those incredibly annoying folks on recipe sites who change virtually everything in a posted recipe from the ingredients to the cooking method, don’t like the results and give it a bad rating. WTF? Too many times I’ve seen insane comments like “I substituted fingernails for the chicken and eye of newt for the cinnamon, and it was nasty! Will not make again.” Okay, that’s kind of an exaggeration, but you get my point. No more of these douchebags, please.
2. Those who fail to follow my rules for elevator riding that exist only in my own mind.
Said rules are as follows:
a) Move out of the way and let me get off the damn elevator before you bully your way on.
b) Please don’t push the button for the next floor up. Other countries roll their eyes at us for precisely this type of thing. Take the stairs.
c) If I push the button to call the elevator, I get to get on first. I pushed the button!
d) As we’re traveling up and others exit, please move up or back or to the side or whatever you have to do to “balance” out the elevator. I’m doing it on my side, do it on yours. Ever heard of Feng shui? Learn it. Use it.
Santa, I realize that my secret elevator rules make me that much crazier. But I’m comfortable with that, and all I want is for people to help me out a little, you know?
3. The association between political party leanings and dietary preferences. Don’t bring me anymore of this. My purchase of cage-free eggs, organic milk and hormone-free beef does not mean I’m a bedwetting liberal, pinko-commy bastard. I mean, I am, but that has nothing to do with the label on my cheese. What it does mean is that I care about the food I eat. And, really, all food used to be bought in these form, although it wasn’t touted as such. Food used to be fresh and healthy and not injected with God-knows-what or riddled with preservatives, dyes and high fructose corn syrup (which, despite what those commercials want you to believe, is NOT the same as sugar — I promise). Our grandparents couldn’t even spell hydrogenated. And know what else? Their Socialist, Godless, pinko-commy bastard food tasted better and didn’t cost them anymore to buy like it does now. So, bring me no more of this.
4. I don’t want any more uncomfortable shoes or underwear. Life is too short, Santa.
5. Parents who tell their kids point blank that there’s no you. Santa, I am so totally against meddling in how parents do their parenting. I really am. But I’m also a hypocrite, and I hate it when parents rob their children of the magic of childhood. It’s not fair, and it makes me want to steal their children and spirit them away to a land of unicorns, gumdrop trees and fairy houses.
6. Facebook. Enough already. Seriously.
7. Cold weather. I sit all day in an overheated office, and by the end of it my skin and hair much resemble that of a dehydrated lizard. As I slither and dart my way down to the parking deck, I am continually blasted in the face by air so cold it makes my teeth hurt. Santa, fountains are freezing in midair here. It’s complete chaos. I know you enjoy tundra-like conditions, but I live below the Mason-Dixon. I was not tempered in this.
8. Antibacterial soap. Call me a weirdo nutjob if you must, but I firmly believe antibacterial products will bring about the downfall of mankind. Everything these days has antibacterial properties. And every other commercial tells me that my house is not truly clean until I’ve hosed it down with Clorox, sealed it firmly in plastic sheeting and wiped that down with sanitized, disposable rags soaked in Purell. I think we’re getting a little carried away. I wonder if folks realize that all this antibacterializing is killing off the good little bacteria too — the valiant, strong, brave bacteria that only want to help! We don’t use antibacterial stuff at my house. Maybe a little bleach on the cutting board is all. And last week, during the course of a 24-hour period, I watched Evie’s non-Purell-ed body fight off a pretty serious cold that had leveled a couple of other kids in daycare. And I felt very smug and self-satisfied about it and went around bragging to everyone that my daughter’s immune system is stronger than steel, which is my right as her mother.
So, that’s my list, Santa. If you will bring me no more the above, I will forever be a happy girl. However, if you just insist on actually putting something in my stocking I would like the following:
2. A pair of jeggings
3. Jeff Bridges
P.S. Love your work!