A Very Chicky Christmas - 2007

Dear Santa,

It's been a whole year since I last wrote to you, pal, and you NEVER WROTE BACK. I think I mentioned that when I finally got to meet you a few weeks ago but, you know, I'm two and a half and I forget things. I think you laughed about it. That much I remember. I don't like to be laughed at, buster. So you just wait and see what I leave for you in your plate of cookies this year.


You can make it up to me, Santa. Remember how I asked you for a doll house? Yeah. I'll be expecting that under my tree. I'd also like a monkey, a purple cow and Raffi tied up with a big red bow. Not a Raffi CD. I want the man himself so he can sing to me whenever I demand it, which is often according to Mom. She's been trying to get me to listen to other types of music this year - she calls it my "musical education", whatever that means - and I've gone for some of her tricks. Johnny Cash is pretty cool, I like him a lot. I like some of that Beatles stuff too, even though bugs usually freak me out. I'm not buying the rest of it though. Could you talk to Mom about lightening up on the weird music and concentrate on more "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star"? Oh, but don't touch the Macarena. I like that crazy groove.

And I expect the monkey and the purple cow to be real, not stuffed.

It's been a crazy year, Santa. Mom spent a lot of time either sleeping on the couch or coughing. Daddy said she wasn't coughing but that she was "throwing up". I don't know what he was talking about because I was always asking her to play ball with me and she always said "Don't throw the ball in the house". Maybe she and Daddy are playing ball after I go to sleep. They always seem like they're in such a hurry to get me to bed at night.

Whatever, all I know is that she's now telling me she has a baby in her belly. How could she have a baby in her belly when she was always coughing everything she ate into the toilet?

Hey, wait just a minute... Do babies come up from the potty?? Do you think a baby jumped up from the potty and into her mouth while she was coughing and then she swallowed it?? That's it. I'm never using the potty now. I don't need some baby growing in my booty.

Regardless of how that baby got there Mom says I'm going to have a baby brother or a baby sister next year some time after my birthday. I'm not too sure what she means by "brother" or "sister" - I mean, my vocabulary is getting better but it's not perfect - but I think there's a little boy in there. If you ask me tomorrow I'll tell you it's a baby girl. Ask me the next day and I'll tell you it's a kitten. Try living in my head for a while, big guy. It's WILD.

Onto the presents!

I mentioned I wanted a doll house, right? Never hurts to say it two or three times. Or twenty-five times! I really like to repeat myself over and over and over and over and over and over and over...

I never got that Elmo doll from last year. Hint, hint.

How about a dinosaur? He can sleep in my room with me.

And a new pair of rain boots. I wear my old rain boots almost every day around the house and Mom says they're two sizes too small for me. Eh. Doesn't bother me one bit. Especially since I usually have them on the wrong feet anyway.

My Mom says she really wants a glass of wine and for Daddy to put the Blackberry away. Daddy wants Mommy to get a job but then says we all know that isn't going to happen any time soon, so I guess you can forget a gift for him.

Oh, and the dogs would like more Girl Scout cookies.

Just to warn you, Santa, now that Mom has told me you come in the night when I'm sleeping to drop off the presents I fully plan on staying awake all night so I can say hello. I love a good petting zoo and I want to feed that reindeer of yours with the freaky red nose.

Word to your mother.

Love,

Chicky