My Letter to Santa….

Dear Santa…

I’ve had a very rough year… In spite of that, I’ve been good… I swear I have.  Don’t listen to what some folks are telling you.  Particularly if their name is… Well, hell, it doesn’t matter.  Don’t listen to them.

So here’s my Christmas list for this year.

Plain and simple… Take care of my kids my family and my friends.  As much as I’m a fan of the sparkly things, and the shooty things… I don’t need them.  Just take care of them.

Despite what you have come to believe, my daughter really is a good girl.  She’s not an angel, not by any stretch.  But she’s a good little girl.  Unlike her brother, she will spontaneously bust out with an “I Lub You, Mama” without prompting.  And without being in trouble.  She wants anything and everything Princess or “Ammalance” related.

My boy is getting to that tricky age.  At his core he’s a good kid but his compatriots are starting to rub off on him.  He’s very grateful for everything he gets, but he’s learning to manipulate the adults around him, and that bothers me.  His only request is a Nintendo DS this year.  I should have bought it last year…  My bad.  I have a feeling it might be under the tree this year.  I guess we’ll have to see how you’re feeling this year.

My Mom just wants her kids (The Responsible One and Myself) to be happy.   We’re both there.  We’re good!  Less work for you!

My Brother, The Responsible One (Did I mention he’s responsible??) just wants what his Mom and I want.  He wants his family to be taken care of.  We are, Little Brother.  We’re all okay.  Well, I can’t vouch for Dad, but the rest of us are okay.

McHottie… I don’t know what he wants… Whatever that is… I hope he gets it.  He’s a fantastic person, someone I count myself lucky to have met in the past year.  He’s challenged me to be better at my job, (and with my patients) and he’s gotten me through so much…  Whatever it is… give it to him.  Hell, the guy trusted me enough to hand over a few weapons for target practice.  That alone scores him whatever he wants.

And to that last person… You know who he is… He’s put up with more crap from me than any person should ever deal with.  He’s my guy.  He’s the only person I think of when something good or bad happens.  He’s the one I worry about every day… He’s the one who puts up with me and my bs and my dreams and insecurities and everything else that is building up inside of me.  Hell, he encourages me in spite of it.  I don’t know why he continues to stick by me, but I’m glad he does.

Take care of him.  Take care of all of them.  That means no coal in their stockings.

Thank you.  Ever your fan,

Epijunky