Close to Nowhere - Linda Jones


Thursday, December 16, 2010
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Close to Nowhere
By Linda Jones

Dear Santa,
I want...

It’s that time of year again. Now that the Santa letters are all safely typed, I can babble on about how much I love them.

My son Kris, who types them, has never been known to say he loves them. But he does smile talking about them sometimes. For Kris, that’s a lot!

I was really pleased this year that Barbie is making a “comeback.” Not that she ever went anywhere, but when Bratz became so popular I was a tad worried. The Bratz dolls are cute, but they aren’t Barbie!

Another popular request this year was Baby Alive. Apparently, Baby Alive does everything a real baby does. And I mean “everything!” She has her own food, she “wees” and (!!!) she “poops!” I am so grateful my granddaughters are past the baby doll stage!

I don’t have boys to buy for -- well, except for Kris and Pop and you know the old saying -- “the only difference between men and boys is the price of their toys.”

Our daughter is very difficult to buy for. I’ve bought her several things this year, chief among them a snazzy fedora/cowboy hat (looks like Indiana Jones’ hat). She’s been wearing it since I bought it.

Son Kris is impossible to buy for. He’s a computer geek-type and everything I want to buy for him he either already has or it costs $9,000.

The granddaughters are relatively easy. They want, no, they “need” everything they see. Walking through any store, anywhere, roughly a million things are pointed out.

I’m not hard though -- fabric, quilting stuff, couple of Barbies, etc. Oh, and the carport closed up and turned into a bigger quilting area. I seem to have outgrown the former master bedroom. A new room is not too much to ask, is it?

So, Santa, here’s my letter:

Dear Santa,
I want a Barbie doll for Christmas -- the 1960s reproduction in the black and white striped bathing suit. I had one just like her back in the 1960s. I have a request for Pop also. He already got his Christmas present. He bought himself a new (to him) 4-wheeler after a nameless daughter wrecked the old one. About a day or so after he got his new toy, he tripped out on the concrete by his shed and banged and bruised his legs all up. He’s so sore he can barely walk. He certainly can’t ride his new toy. Maybe you could make the weather nicer and “revitalize” him so he can ride on his toy.
Oh, and Santa, please don’t forget my most important request. I ask for this every year and somehow, it never comes -- world peace would be a wonderful thing, don’t you think?
I love you,
Bumpy

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