The Eighth Page

Dear Children of the World

Dear Children of the World, My biggest Christmas wish is that all you nincompoops stop writing me such ridiculous cards, and maybe give me a year or two for vacation. I need a little quality time with Mrs. Claus if you know what I mean. I can’t make all these crazy things you damn kids ask for. Things like “happiness” and “a family” do not fall within the elves’ craftmanship abilities. Besides, haven’t you ever considered that there are a lot of things that I want, too? I want a Bowflex®™ from those infomercials that are on all the time. I’ve been getting so much grief from my doctor about my weight and blood pressure. I guess a few million cookies and glasses of milk once a year take their toll. So if you kids must put out milk, could you make it skim? I haven’t quite figured it out, but some neon lights for the sleigh would be nice. I already have sub woofers in the back, and don’t ask how, but I made special spinners for the reindeer. With 364 free days a year, I can do some pretty incredible things. Also, I’m getting tired of the cold weather up here at the North Pole. A nice condo on the beach somewhere could really do me and Mrs. Claus some good. This may seem a bit random, but I want every major league baseball player with the initials SC in bobble-head form. It has always been a dream of mine, but I can’t exactly walk into a memorabilia store unnoticed. I would send some elves, yet something tells me that would be even worse than going myself. Toilet made out of solid gold. Must more be said? So thanks for listening. Maybe if I get some of my wishes granted, I’ll be in a good enough mood to have Christmas this year. Sincerely, the fat guy in red – the one not screaming “Kool-Aid,”