Letter to Santa Claus

Dear Santa,

You know when I am sleeping, and you know when I'm awake. That's kind of creepy, but since you bring me presents, I'll let it slide. You also know when I've been bad or good, but the cookies I leave out for you each year seem to tip the scales in my favor. You'll find more on the hearth this year. I'm sorry there's always so much frosting on them. The kids think it's funny to make it at least an inch thick on the cookie we leave for you. Please blame them for that one, not me.

The heart of this letter is, of course, what I want for Christmas. (Do you get tired of reading so many requests?) There's not very much that I want this year. I already have my two front teeth and I wouldn't know what to do with a partridge in a pear tree.
Mainly, I would like a solution to this Consumerist Christmas issue. Now, don't get me wrong, the holiday season is a great way to stimulate the economy, but only if people don't go into debt to buy gifts. I like that Christmas has the whole "Spirit of Giving" angle, but that shouldn't mean expensive presents. Thoughtful little mementos should be at the heart of Christmas giving. I for one would be happier if someone drew me a picture or wrote me a poem, than if they spent more than they could afford on a gift.

I'd also like it if more people would adopt a Stress-Free Christmas attitude, especially when it comes to the holiday get-togethers. If you love all those Martha Stewart touches on a fancy-schmancy Christmas dinner table, great, go for it. But if casual is more your style, embrace that too. It should be about spending time with family and friends, not impressing other people with culinary skills or napkins folded to look like turtle doves.

Anything you can do to help in those areas would be appreciated. In lieu of that, I'd like some Tom Tierney coloring books and a set of Prismacolor colored pencils (but not the Verithin kind).

Thank you,
Susan

P.S. You might want to check in with the elf who runs your stables. Rudolph's red nose could be a sign that he's been drinking a little too much Christmas punch, and I'd hate to see him run over another Grandma this year.