Dear Santa, I think I’ve been pretty good this year. I might deserve a present or two. So let me tell you what I would like to see under the tree. N O T H I N G.
All I want for Christmas is me. Me alone, all by myself, with my family nowhere to be seen. Seriously, dear husband and kids; please, forget about buying me knick knacks, earrings and other things I don’t want or need. I know it’s a little hard to wrap up and pile with the other presents, but the only thing I really and truly desire is time to myself.
I want to read a novel. No, I don’t want you to go out and buy me a novel. I want to read one of the several books already collecting dust in a pile on our mantel.
I want to sit in a coffee shop. No, I don’t want to go to a coffee shop with you. I want to go by myself and not recognize another living soul in the place and just sit at a table all by myself and do I don’t even know what, something frivolous, something useless.
I want to watch some TV show or movie that is both not appropriate for my kids, and also unbearably boring for my husband.
I want someone else to scrub the toilets, get the kids to the bus stop, and cook dinner.
I want to be left alone, all alone, for multiple hours in a row.
I want naps.