Letter to Santa: Please Don’t Bring My Kid an iPod

Dear Santa,

I have been reasonably good this year. The kids are still alive, so obviously I didn’t kill them. I may have yelled at them a time or two, and in so doing, I may have brought them to tears. But really, a little yelling is not that bad. Is it? I mean, it’s not like I tell them what I’m really thinking. That would be bad. Anyway, I keep them clean and fed, and I pick up after them, so that should make up for it.

Moving on.

I’ve been nice to other people as well. That is, I haven’t told them what I’m really thinking either. Like the people at Omelette’s school who cut in the parent pick-up line. I have been gracious enough not to ram them or yell obscenities out the window. And I have been careful not to let any young children (mine or theirs) see a certain hand gesture that may have flashed itself of its own accord.

Maybe I should get to the point.

I’m not really asking for anything this year. I’m pretty happy with what I’ve got. I have a roof over my head, food to eat, a healthy family, and a working coffee pot. Really what more could I ask for? All I really want for Christmas is to ask you a couple of questions. So here goes…

First, what is up with the elves? Are you not keeping them busy enough? I see them popping up on other people’s shelves, and it makes me think that perhaps you’ve outsourced their regular jobs to that other pole. Not that I mind the penguins having a means to support their families, of course. But penguins can be a bit mischievous. Haven’t you seen the Madagascar movies?

My second question is a bit more on the serious side. Do you deliver iPods? I know this doesn’t sound like a serious question, but this is what my seven-year-old is asking for this year, and I’m not sure what to do with that. When I was seven, I was still asking for actual toys. I didn’t live in a digitally rechargeable world. We didn’t have iAnything. We didn’t even have CD players yet. And if we had, I don’t think I would have been interested in something that just played music. That was something my parents listened to. On their record player. I was busy learning to ride a bike or inventing dollhouse dramas. Conversely, the bike you brought for Omelette last year has only been ridden once, and the dollhouse you brought her the year before recently found its way into the donation bin at Goodwill. She wants something more sophisticated this year. You’re not going to let her stop being a kid, are you? Can I just tell her that Santa doesn’t do business with Apple?

Or maybe, you could send one of those elves to do it.

Photo courtesy of my friend, Mia
(with the help of Jake the elf)