Dear Santa: What A Toddler REALLY Wants For Christmas
So, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want. Yes, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, REALLY want-in the words of the infamous 90’s girl band that were popular when my mum was wearing Addidas trousers, Nike hoodies, chokers, and butterfly clips in her hair (don’t worry, she’s suitably ashamed,) what I really want for Christmas is to live out the rest of my childhood languishing in a bath of ice cream, watching Peppa Pig. So if you can arrange that Santa, me and you are on to a good thing. If you can’t, you are a fraud, and I’m afraid I’m already pushing the boundaries of what acceptable tosh to believe from my parents (I’ll only grow big and strong if I eat fruit and veg? Really? Frigging lies, I pride myself on only eating toast, egg on toast, plain pasta, and cake, and guess what? I’m growing! So they can shove that lie up their arse!) I have to say Santa, I’m struggling with the idea that you really can squeeze yourself out of our wood burner to leave our stuff, I’ve watched and laughed as my little brother has tried to squeeze himself in there (don’t freak out, it wasn’t lit, they don’t light it when we are around because we’re toddlers, and touching absolutely everything, is in our job description, so it’s only lit when we are in bed,) and he can’t do it, so, unless the ice cream and Peppa Pig thing happens, I’ll know for sure you are a big fat lie too.
Right, moving on. Just on the off chance you do make it out of the wood burner, I’m going to leave you all the carrots (and all other veg for that matter,) that we own. Tell the Reindeer to knock themselves out. I’m better than a sniffer dog, and I can tell that that shit is constantly hidden in my food. My mum does it so often, she’s just embarrassing herself. Sometimes my little brother eats it, before I’ve told him. So to save having to broadcast the shame he has brought on all other toddlers, it’s just safer if the Reindeer eat it all. I’ll also leave you all of my parents alcohol (not just the stuff from the rack, but the hidden stashes too.) They’re on it every night Santa, so for the good of their health, you drink it. Also, it would be my mums wish to spend the rest of her life in a bath of prosecco, and as it’s part of my job description to make sure she never gets anything she wants, like, ever, again, it only seems fair I leave it all out for you. If you could also make sure this alleged Prosecco grape shortage actually comes to fruition, that’d be awesome!
A couple of other things I’d like Santa, if you would? I want the look on my mums face when I’ve woken her up in the night, and she’s spent 2 hours sat in the chair in the corner of my room, then gets up to creep out, thinking I’ve gone back to sleep. The look on her face when I jump up and shout ‘where are you going??’ Yea that. I want that look. Bottled if you would Santa.
I’d also like my own private en suite bathroom. Having my own bathroom, where I could spend as many hours as I want flushing the toilet, is my idea of heaven. And if it could have at least 10 toilet roll holders, fully loaded, that’d be great. Then I could see if I could break my record of how much toilet roll I could shove down the toilet, see how many rolls I can empty onto the floor until only the cardboard roll is left, and my little brother could see how much of it he can eat. This room would be better than any soft play we ever get taken to.
It’s my birthday the week before Christmas Santa (I’m sure you and the Birthday Bunny have discussed this way in which my parents tried the old role reversal, and tried to ruin MY life?) So if you could arrange for me to have my birthday in the summer instead, I would love you for ever! Also, if you could educate all the other parents out there, that March should be avoided when putting in an order to the stork. He’s a pretty slow stork, who seriously needs to speed up his delivery times, but if he has to take that long, March orders should be banned.
Cheerios that don’t go soggy could be handy, but don’t break your neck for that one. If we’re talking food, a lifetimes supply of kinder eggs would be optimal. Kinder egg toys are the bomb. They ruin my mum’s life, and they’re the best argument fodder for me and my little brother. I’m sure you are aware of the laws surrounding Kinder egg toys and Sibling fights?
Anyway, I think that just about covers it all Santa. Don’t bother with anything else, this extensive list covers all bases!
A Toddler in the TML house.
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