All I Want for Christmas*
*I'm gonna need a bigger stocking.
When my daughters were five and seven, we did the thing where we stood in an endless line at the mall so I could pay $30 for a photo of the two of them sitting uncomfortably in the arms of some random dude in a rented suit. (Also, girls, remember: We never, ever talk to strangers! And for God’s sake, do not under any circumstances let them touch you unless they offer you candy and promise to sneak into the house when everyone’s asleep and bring you anything you want OMG.) The very next day, we happened to have tickets to a Christmas brunch at the fancy-schmancy Four Seasons. Wouldn’t you know it? Midway through the meal, Santa himself made a “surprise” appearance.
I figured we’d already crossed that activity off the holiday to-do list, but the girls let it be known they were not going to miss out on an opportunity to remind the (other) Big Guy of their hearts’ burning material desires. So once again, we waited in a line that stretched figuratively and metaphorically to Lapland.
When our turn finally came, seven-year-old Sophie eagerly hopped atop Santa’s knees.
“And what’s your name?” Santa ho-ho-hoed. Sophie turned to me with a look of alarm. He didn’t know?
“Sophie,” she replied politely, trying to help an old guy out.
“And what would Sophie like Santa to bring her this year?” he asked, his eyes all atwinkle.
The poor kid could barely keep it together. “I just told you yesterday,” she blurted.
Still, she continued to believe. In fact, the next year her wish list had “earrings like Selena Gomez’s” on it. “Oooh, nice,” I said casually. “What do they look like?”
“It’s okay, Mom,” she said in a hilariously patronizing tone. “Santa will know.” Santa spent a lot of time googling “Selena Gomez earrings” that year.
The original intent of this post was to craft my own sociopolitical Christmas Wish List and then to ask you all what was on yours, but I started thinking about those Christmases past and then I took a detour down Nostalgia Lane and started leafing through memory boxes and now I’m an emotional puddle because while I absolutely love having adult children, flashbacks of their tiny, tender, innocent selves can literally bring me to my knees.
[Pauses to blow nose and upload Exhibit A.]
I remember the day Sasha wrote that list. We were racing through Macy’s one afternoon when we bumped smack into an elaborate North Pole display. There was a bright red mailbox and a long table scattered with pencils and postcards and you could write to Santa and then pop your note directly into his personal mailbox and if you think there was a snowman’s chance in hell we were going to be able to pass that enticing display by without participating, you probably do not have kids (who like or even speak to you).
The making of the annual Christmas list was a grand, highly anticipated event in our house. The girls would cuddle in bed together night after night and come up with all manner of fanciful must-haves they might ask that beneficent fat trespasser to bring them. The sky was the limit—one year, one of them asked for “everyone everywhere happy” my heart—and creativity was your friend. It was a seasonal chance to dream big and ask for the moon. Or a sock monkey and some shorty shorts and lots of big purses.
It’s funny and sweet but you guys, these are actual lists my children gave me back in the day from which I was expected to produce Christmas morning magic. I must have spent three weeks trying to figure out where on earth to find the core mog cloos that were going to make her little heart sing. (The pretend phone and Statue of Liberty statue were slam dunks.)
Anyway, I haven’t made a Christmas list of my own in many, many years—and TBH I feel guilty asking Santa or God or the universe for anything seeing as I already got this century’s greatest gift of being unburdened by what has been. But since fortune favors the bold and also you miss one hundred percent of the shots you never take, here are a few (20 to be exact) things I wouldn’t mind having/seeing/enjoying in the months to come:
Fauci and Gates in jail. Forever. With no possibility of parole. Ever.
RFK Jr.’s confirmation as Secretary of HHS.
The release of the Epstein and Diddy lists—with justice swiftly served.
No fake alien invasion or nuke PSYOP, thankyouverymuch.
Passage of a mandatory voter ID law.
Pardons for all J6 prisoners.
Term limits for Congress.
Cancel student loan forgiveness. I said it.
Rachel Maddow’s public apology (*can be as simple as, “Fine, the virus doesn’t stop with you. Are you happy?”) and on-air termination.
Tens of thousands of new subscribers.
Literally YESTERDAY we popped into our favorite distillery (*one of the many, many reasons I love having adult children) and LOOK WHAT THEY HAD. Make Vaccine Makers Liable Again!
A secure border.
The repeal of any and all remaining Covid mandates and restrictions.
Return to energy independence.
An actual, proper investigation into the 2020 election.
The criminalization of “gender affirming care” for minors.
Removal of Critical Race Theory (and anything woke, period) from schools.
Full withdrawal from the Paris Climate Agreement.
Leopard-print over-the-knee boots.
Abolition of income tax entirely.
Come on, Big Guy. I’ve been a really *mostly* good girl this year. What do you say?
🎄🎄🎄 This will likely be my only post of the week—unless I get a wild hair or a posse of elves shows up to help me do all the things—so I wanted to take a quick sec to say I hope my friends and followers have an amazing Christmas and find everything you could have ever dared to dream for and more beneath your tree. Oh, and don’t forget to tell me what you’re hoping it is in the comments *no, honey, that does not jinx it, yes, I’m positive*.
I know, this time of year is a lot. There’s probably not a single soul sitting around out there going, “Well, I’ll be darned. What on earth am I gonna do with all this extra cash I’ve got that I can’t fit into my wallet? I wonder if there are any starving substackers out there who could use some support in the form of paid subscriptions.” Trust me, I’m tapped, too. That said, if you value and appreciate what I do and would like to chip into my emotional health fund, no amount is too small. TIA for your generosity.
I would add exit from WHO.
I love your list .. and yes get rid of alphabet agencies. Please stop jabbing pregnant women. 🙌🏼