A MOM’S LETTER TO SANTA
| BY PAM MOLNAR
Dear Santa,
I can’t believe another year has gone by. Is it just me or are the years passing fast er? I think I have been a pretty good mom this year. I have driven my kids to every social event, prac tice and friend’s house. My wallet has been an endless foun tain of money for movies, frozen yogurt and senseless mall trips. I have clocked countless hours at socc er fields, basketball courts, softball diamonds and music auditoriums. With a little help from our frie nd, Google, I continue to help with homework in subjects I have long forgotten. Sure, I might have lost it a few times, but I live with teenagers, Santa. The y are God’s version of the Elf on the Shelf - sent dow n to keep us in check, but if left without supervision, they get into mischief.I know you are busy, so I will be brief. To start, I need a few things for the bath room – a sink that repels toothpaste, a spla sh free mirror and a never ending roll of toilet paper. Cha nging the roll is just too complicated for my family. I’d like a copy of “The Busy Mom’s Exercise -Free Wei ght Loss Plan”. I heard it is hard to find, but hey, you are Santa. As a backup, I would be happy with a copy of “The Wine Diet” instead. Unlike other programs, I think I could really stick to this one. Remember those electric bug zappers from years ago? If they make one for dog hair , I will take two! The dogs are older now so I can no longer claim the pile of hair is a litter of newborn puppies. If you have a time machine in storage at the North Pole, I would love the ability to send a letter to my younger self. I could save her hours of unnecessary worry about career choices, raising children and neighborhood drama. I think that is what caused these “blond” highlights I keep find ing in my hair. If it isn’t too much trouble, I would like to hav e a whole week free of arguments about who rides in the front seat, who drank the last Gatorad e and whose turn it is to do the dishes. This is the season of miracles, right? Lastly, I would be thrilled to serve a meal that no one complains about. I’ve given up asking for a meal that everyone eats together before 9:00pm. Our crazy schedule is something even Santa can’t fix. Well Santa, I can hear my daughter beep ing the car horn in the driveway. I have to start round two of my carpool. Trav el safe. I’m sorry if the cookies are gone when you get here. The dogs eat any thing left on the coffee table. Since I made them, it’s probably better that the dogs ate them anyway. Love, Mom P.S. All I really want is to see the magic of Christmas morning in my teenagers’ eyes . Pam Molnar is a freelance writer and
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dallas parent DECEMBER 2016
the mother of three teens. This is the
actual letter she sent to Santa this year.
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