Recently I received a box from my Mom in the mail that included some of my childhood pictures and mementos. I gave them a quick scan but didn’t look at them too thoroughly as after the age of about 6 I entered what I like to call the ‘awkward stage’ of my life. This lasted until graduate school. This is in large part due to the fact that I was one of the tallest girls in my class and I had hair that could have registered for its own zip code. It was out of control. In graduate school I discovered the wonderful ‘flat-iron’ and my life changed forever. Yes, I was a late bloomer in that area of my life, but in undergrad I was too busy running cross-country and when you have to parade around in shorts and sports bras everyday you don’t really care what your hair looks like because it’s going to be drenched in sweat from 4-6pm everyday.
Where am I going with this? Christmas. I went back through the photos, and tucked into them were some old letters to Santa I had written. At first I was outraged, no wonder I never got everything I wanted, my parents had not sent my letters! How is Santa supposed to know what I want if my letter never got sent? Sigh, this is going to take years of therapy to get over.
Well one of those letters to Santa was a true gem and is the perfect example of what I was like as a kid. A few people have recently suggested I exaggerate or even lie in what I post here. Well trust me, I can’t make this stuff up. I am brutally honest, not just for my readers, but because this blog helps me process things. I was a WEIRD little kid, and I love that. So here it is, my Christmas letter to Santa at age 7:
So note that first on my list is an electric toothbrush. I have NO idea what I was thinking, I don’t remember this at all. Then I ask for a baby, a newborn baby. I was the youngest of 4 kids and always wanted a little sibling. But I especially liked that I coupled it with number 3. I wanted a newborn baby AND clay. I did get items 5, 6, 7, 9, and 10 on my list. Number 10 is ‘kaleidiscope’ if you couldn’t figure out my spelling. And do you like how I wished Santa a “Merry Christmas”, I know smooth right? I remember thinking that I bet no one ever wished Santa that and I thought I would. Just trying to get in good with the guy in red and hoped he’d forgotten about the incident in which I cut my own hair.
Also for your viewing pleasure here are two pictures of me as a kid:
Well I’m going to go and mail all my old Christmas lists to Santa, hopefully he will understand, and funny enough, I still want a newborn baby.