by Tina Stone
Write a letter to Santa explaining my behavior.
Please, before your elves jump the gun and exile me to the Naughty List, let me explain. You have to try to understand. I had no choice! Look, I know they were your cookies. I know each year I always leave out your favorite gingerbread men cookies dressed as elves. But I was sitting here, on this overstuffed chair waiting for you. I REALLY had to talk to you. But it kept getting later and later. And my tummy started rumbling. Do you know how hard it is to sit next to a plate of sweet-smelling cookies, sipping coffee at 3 am, waiting for someone to slide down my chimney?
Santa, you know I love you, and despite being a grown-up, I still believe in you and I've taught my children to believe in you. Every year, I still bake your cookies, and I promise, next year, I'll leave some extra ones to make up for the ones I pilfered this year. Just, please, don't tell my kids. They wouldn't understand. If you'll forgive me, I'll even add some carrots for Rudolph and his buddies.
Now, the whole thing could have been avoided if, last year I'd gotten the glass top stove I'd asked for instead of the pillowy cat-shaped slippers. Don't get me wrong, having Sparky, the kid's cat lay in wait in the hall just to attack my feet wasn't the worst thing ever. It's just I really needed you to understand how much I NEED that stove and I felt a face to face chat would help make you get the point.
Anyway, I'm sorry for eating your cookies while I waited up for you. If you bring me a stove as I've asked, I promise next year I'll bake you as many cookies as you want.
Love Always and Forever,