Dear Santa,
I am a ten-month-old baby, and I am writing to you because my mother has been sending out my Christmas list to people, and her list does not in any way represent the things I really want. I don’t really want stacking cups.
And before you say anything, I know you’re ready to make the joke about ten-month-old babies and how all we want is the wrapping paper and the boxes. Touché, Santa. Touché. We do, of course, want those things. But I have a number of additional things that I want very badly.
My list is enclosed. Have a lovely holiday.
—Baby
1. This Laptop Cord
I want this laptop cord more than I have ever wanted anything. Please. I also want the power strip with the orange on/off button and the white label on the other cord pictured (which is not connected to the laptop). I would love these specific cords located behind my mother’s desk next to the air conditioner (whose cord I also want).
2. This Wall-Mount Entertainment Center
I have no idea why my mother does not want me to play with this thing, as it is obviously a child’s toy. I would like one for my room.
3. House Keys
I would love a whole set of house keys. To eat, obviously. Only metal house keys will do. Please do not buy me plastic ones. I am not an idiot—I know that plastic house keys are not real keys.
4. Everybody’s Eyeglasses
I pull these off the face of every person I meet, only to have them pried from my fingers and reclaimed by their original owner. I would love to have a pair of my own. Again, these are going to be for eating.
5. The Contents of This Thing
I would love for the contents of this thing to be emptied out onto the floor—particularly things like used wet cotton balls and discarded pieces of floss. If you would like to just take the contents of this bin and transfer them directly into my stocking, that would also be fine.
6. Handfuls of the Dog’s Fur
This stuff is the best. I keep trying to pull it off her, but she moves frequently, making collection difficult. My favorite thing to do with it is put it in my mouth and then immediately realize that I didn’t want it in my mouth.
7. The Hole in the Hallway Floorboard
I spend hours looking at this hole and poking at it. I know I cannot “have”
a hole, as a hole cannot be had. A hole is an absence. Yet this is a list of the things I want, and I want this hole the way Gandhi wanted peace. The way the dog wants to lick my face. The way my mom wants me to stop pulling off her eyeglasses.
8. This Stuff, Which Is All Over the Apartment
I have no idea what this stuff is. All I know is that I want it in my hands, and no sooner have I grasped its sweet, delicate softness than my mother comes running over yelling something like, “STOP TOUCHING THAT—HOW OFTEN DO I HAVE TO VACUUM THE DANG HALLWAY?”
9. The Dog’s Food
Every time I get close to this, someone pulls me away from it. If they don’t want me to eat it, why is it on the floor?
10. One of These
No idea what these do, but it’s clearly a lot of fun, given that my mother never stops looking at it.
11. Bobby Pins
These are my favorite! If I had a nickel for every bobby pin I found on the floor, I’d have double the number of little metal things that I could put in my mouth because, go figure, I also totally love nickels.
from Reader's Digest http://ift.tt/2fOKV3P
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