Dear Santa,
I know that I'm (possibly) too old to be writing you and asking for stuff. But just in case there's no age limit on wishful thinking, I thought, "What the heck, let's drop the big guy a line just in case he's wondering what I want..." So on that note, here are a few things I'd really like you to give me this Christmas.
In no particular order:
1. The total annihilation of all Sitti musical recordings on the face of the earth and for her supposed musical "talent" to mysteriously disappear to forestall any future "musical" forays.
I had to visit my dentist last week -- it was horrible enough being in that dentist's chair, hearing the metallic whirring sound of the drill and anticipating the pain. But for my dentist to compound the suffering ten fold by playing his Shitty...este..Sitti CD collection is just plain inhumane. And possibly, this is what the framers of the Constitution had inmind when they drafted the prohibition on "cruel and unusual punishment".
To make matters worse, as I recover from my horrendous dentist's visit this fine Saturday morning. My next door neighbor apparently purchased the same CD and is playing it at top volume -- causing untold pain to me and also, to the other neighbor's rottweiler who's either howling in pain or trying to sing along.
2. For a pair of indestructible, waterproof, baby proof glasses which incidentally, will magically appear in my hands when I snap my fingers.
For some reason, my baby thinks that real toys are for sissies. Hence, no amount of bribery with toys will excite her interest. We've tried everything from those atrociously expensive lamaze and fisher price toys to the cheap plastic Barbies from the bangketa in Divisoria (...or at least until I had a panic attack over the lead content...hmmm...) to no success. As a matter of fact, the cheap plastic Barbie was that clear winner. Tabitha played with her long enough to snap her head off throw it at her sister who just looked on in disgust.
Instead, Tabitha likes to play with non-toys. Like her dad's car keys, the tv remote (of which she's broken four already), and oh, you know.. electrical outlets and forks.
Her ultimate favorite though, are my glasses. Which now sit on my nose at a weird angle, are held together by duct tape on one side and are corroding (possibly due to all the baby spit.)
3. For someone to explain to me why Coco Martin is on the same Bench billboard as Kris Aquino and Bimby. Or even better, for someone to explain why anyone would name their child "Bimby" -- did she not realize that it is too close in sound to the adjective "Bimbo" ? )
I mean, really. Richard Gomez (and family) I get, Ruffa and Richard Gutierrez, check; Vilma Santos, Lucky and Edu Manzano (in a weird, screwed up way -- and what was Ralph Recto thinking allowing this?) I also kinda get -- BUT Coco Martin, Bimby and Bimbo..este..Kris...really boggles the mind. And upsets me each time I drive past Guadalupe bridge.
(Or maybe I should start working again and start using my brain cells, which obviously, are turning into mush...)
4. World peace.
...because that would be a good thing. And also because I've always secretly wanted to be a beauty pageant contestant just so I can say "World Peace" with a wide, shit-eating grin on my face wearing a swimsuit in heels and it would be perfectly normal...
5. For a huge ass shopping mall where everything is 70% off --- somewhere in Quezon province.
...this way, there would no traffic in and around Alabang Town Center and I could actually drive the 7 kilometer distance from house without (a) almost hitting another car, person, motorcycle carrying a family of three plus their dog; (b) taking the Lord's name in vain with all my swearing and gesticulating at insane drivers and (c) be ale to buy the hypothetical panty (or some such essential) without having to line up for three hours and almost get into a fight with some crazy, rich, fat, fashion victim from BF Homes who suddenly decides she wants the exact same pair I was already holding when she tried to grab it out of my hands.
6. An Ipad.
Or rather, another Ipad.
Because my 6 year old seems to think the current one belongs to her.
And so I can't check work or my email.
(And damn it!!! I REALLLY need to defend my lawn from those pesky zombies!!!)
7. For all my undone Christmas shopping to be magically done (and looking like Jazel Calvo wrapped them).
Marthe Stewart will now disown me. But I haven't done all my shopping and the ones I did get, I wimped out and put them into those pre-made gift bags from the Bazaar. Sorry, no ribbons this year. ..and you can forget about the berries, bells, etc.
Normally I like to shop...I just don't like to shop when I don't get to buy anything for myself. There I said it. I'm a selfish bitch.
Now shoot me.
(And THEN you'll really not get a present this year....for various reasons including (a) I'd be dead and can;t get you one and (b) You'll be in jail with RJ Revilla and the Ampatuans and it won't really feel Christmas-sy in there.
8. For you not to give Tempest any more toys.
Because I'm the one who has to put them away, who accidentally steps on them in the dark at night and who gets injured when the Littlest Petshop pet punctures the sole of my foot, I'm the one who has to calm her down when they "run away" (i.e. get lost) and then have to call the gift-giver to find out where "Santa" bought it so I can rush down there to buy a replacement.
Besides, cash is good Santa! It never hurts to be liquid in these times of financial turmoil and the unfortunate European market...
(I'm already teaching Bobbi to say "Special Deposit Account")
9. Or better yet Santa, maybe some Christmas Spirt?
I think my cynicism is showing.
10. Bust most of all Santa the one thing I REALLY, REALLY do want. I know you can't give me.
I miss my dad.
And I wish he were here.
Christmas is awfully hard this year with no one else in the house who appreciates Fruitcake like I do. With papa gone, who will share the fruitcake with me over a cup of (non-decaf) coffee?
We used to joke that there are only 10 actual fruitcakes circulating in the Philippines. They just get passed around because everyone just changes the card and gives them away again when they get them...except in our house. Because Papa and I have never met a fruitcake we didn't like. So Dad, what am I going to do now? By my count, there are still 7 out of the 10 fruitcakes still running around out there and you're not here to help me eradicate them.
And there's no one to fix the lights outside so that the house looks like something from National Lampoon's Christmas vacation.
Besides, who's going to remind us TWO entire hours before the mass on the 24th that we need to get ready for mass? We probably will be late then.
Who's going to check that Santa didn't give Tempest a rock (no lumps of coal in Manila so a rock will do) in her stocking when she's been naughty... and who'll surreptitiously exchange it for candy when Tempest actually gets a rock because he can't stand to see her crying over the rock?
For the first time in my life, I don't feel like a little kid on Christmas.
But For papa, I'll try.
Because there ARE little kids here and he'd feel bad if Santa skipped our house this year.
And you know they say fruitcake keeps forever....
