Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

Hey man, what’s up. I know that I haven’t written you in a while and I do apologize for that. Things have been busy with the kids and all and we can’t really count college as I don’t remember my first two years. But you’re Santa, so you have to forgive me, right? You’re a Saint, so be Saintly.

How’s the Ms.? I saw her on the Rudolph Variety Hour the other night and she looked great. Pass along my love when you get a chance.

So you may have guessed that I need your help and that is the reason I am writing my first letter to you since I was 8. And let’s be honest, that last letter I wrote I know was total bullshit but I had to do it so my sister still believed, I’m a great big brother.

But this year I really need your help if you have time. You have come through for me so well in the past and this is a favor that I’m afraid that only you can really do.

You remember back in 81 when you brought me the Castle Greyskull for my He-man actions figures? That’s the level of help I need now. The Castle was impossible to find that year but you did it, you rock. And who can forget the first Nintendo you brought me in 86? I played the shit out of that and it shaped my Christmas’s for years to come.

Granted, things got a little bit out of hand after that. Whenever I would get a new game I would secretly unwrap it and play it in the middle of the night with my friends. This went on for weeks until I rewrapped it and put it under the tree. By the time Christmas morning came along, I was already listed as high score but Mom and Dad never seemed to catch on. We’ll just chalk up that to the “Naughty years” and be done with it.

Because now I’m a changed man. I’m a father myself now with 2 great little kids. Sure, I talk a good game but the truth is that I know that I spoil them a little. I can’t help it, I’m sure you understand in your line of work. I provide for my kids and wife and keep everyone safe from alien abductions, what more can a father do?

And for the most part I don’t ask for a whole lot for myself. Just the occasional peace and quite, that’s about it.

Except at Christmas because there is something this year that I want and I’m afraid that only you can give it to me.

As I’m sure you know, my family encompasses my wife, 2 kids, 2 dogs over 50 pounds and two psychotic cats. I know that I kid around a lot and joke about them, but the truth is that they are my family and I love them.

So for Christmas this year, there is only one thing that I want. Its free of charge and doesn’t take that much effort but I don’t think it will work out because it has never worked out before.

What I want is simple. I want my whole family in our bed. That’s it. I don’t need nothing more. I just want the kids and the dogs and the wife and the cats to all be snuggled up against me so that I can truly appreciate the minions that I have.

I have created this. I have made this and I don’t think it is to much to ask that Dad gets a little snuggle time sometime Christmas morning with everyone at one time. We have a king-sized bed, everyone fits.

I have tried this in the past but as you can see by this letter, it never works. Someone will eventually whack me in the nuts. Whether it’s a paw or a kid’s little fist of fury, it usually happens. This will then set the dogs off who then freak out the cats who then decide to use my face as the leaping off point to freedom. I am a little amazed that somewhere along the way these past Christmas’s I haven’t ended up with a wooden leg or an eye patch, destined to sell the high seas.

Is it really to much to ask? Is it to much to ask that all of my little Hosslings are in the bed and cooperating so that Dad can have a good damn Christmas? I don’t think so but Little Hoss seems to disagree. She’ll snuggle, but just not in the bed. As soon as she is in there she has to start pulling some dogs ears or a cats tail. Then someone will whine and again freak out the cats who then take vengeance on my feet under the covers.

So Santa, that’s it, that’s all I want for Christmas. I want a good hour of family time in the bed without the need for a first aid kit nearby. I want a dog on my side, a cat on my feet, a wife on my shoulder and a kid on my chest. I would then be the happiest guy in the entrie world. If you can get me this, then we’ll forget all about that hand me down Barbi Trike you got me in 78.

But if you can’t make this work, then I would like an old decommissioned Sherman Tank.

Sincerely,
Hossman