PS Santa

Dear Santa,
In reviewing my previous letter to you, I realized it’s possible I may have overstated the quality of my behavior during the past year. Saying that I’ve been “an extremely good girl” may have been an exaggeration. Not that I intended to mislead you. I was under the influence of a Milky Way when I composed that letter, and I really cannot be held accountable for anything I do during a chocolate/caramel buzz. I would not want my inaccurate information to affect the quality or quantity of gifts you choose to bestow upon me, so perhaps I should ‘fess up to some stuff and explain a few things before you slide down my chimney.

First of all my profanity has been much better this year than in past years. While I certainly have not eliminated it from my vocabulary, I have made greats strides in curtailing my cussing. I have found that “doodles” and “puddin’” are great substitutes for the really ugly words. I do let a few of my old favorites fly every now and then, but it’s usually when I’ve hurt myself….like this morning when I stubbed four of my toes on the end of the bed. Surely you can understand that.

I was kind of bad during Hubby’s colonoscopy, but you must admit the whole flatulence thing was pretty funny. And the gaping hospital gown, wasn’t that a hoot? What’s a girl to do when presented with that kind of opportunity? I am sorry about that. Really, I am, but they say laughter is the best medicine. I just thought it would help him feel better. I know I felt better afterwards.

Then there was the cookbook incident. I borrowed one of Mama J.’s cookbooks and thought I returned it. She asked for it back, and I swore I gave it back to her; insisted that I gave it back to her; argued with her about it until I had convinced her she was wrong and then I found it in my hutch about six weeks later. I didn’t want to admit to her she was right so I slipped it back on her shelf when she wasn’t looking. Yeah, I know it was wrong, but think about it. Don’t you hate it when you have to eat crow in front of your mother-in-law? I thought so.

To be honest I don’t pick up my phone when my mother calls between 8 and 9pm on Thursday nights because Grey’s Anatomy is on. It’s shallow, I know, but I hate missing one little minute of hospital melodrama and smut. I’ll work on this one since I have DVR now. Besides, I always call her back later.

And finally, I should probably apologize for the way I spoke to that young babe that tried to cut in front of me and 50,000 other people in line for the port-a-potties at the Jimmy Buffett concert. I may have been a little too …hmmm…shall we say assertive….in that situation. It was the margarita in me talking, and I had to pee really badly. If it makes any difference to you, I’ve bitten my tongue many times this year when I wanted to ream someone out for cutting me off in traffic…or screwing up my fast food order….or cutting in line at J.C. Penney’s….so… well, you get the picture.

Well, that about does it. I could probably think of a few more things if I dug a little deeper, but let’s just call it quits for now. I think that’s enough for one day, don’t you? Besides, you don’t want to hear all about my occasional road rage or quick temper. And don’t get me started on the topic of being a smart aleck. And while I’m thinking of it, let’s just keep this letter between me and you. There’s no need to ask Hubby for more information or his opinion on all of this. And that whole cookbook incident? I’d rather he not know about that. Thanks Santa. See you in a couple of weeks. Don’t forget that bling. Size 5 on the ring finger.

Hugs and kisses,
Hula Girl