Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

Babble dab a flubble bla dooo boo da da baa poob poob………

Nah, me neither. Just because Mummy and Daddy can’t understand me properly yet it doesn’t mean that you can’t Santa.

Anyhoo, LP here. First time writer, long term fan. When I say “long term” I really mean only a few months but you come highly recommended to me from Daddy who tells me all about you every time I pick up a TV remote control or a mobile phone and hold it to my ear, as, apparently, am prone to do.  I really do need to trust daddy as in my short life I have learned from bitter experience that  I really shouldn’t annoy the Chef. Also Santa, you have to remember too that it’s not been too long since the Stork brought me to Mummy and Daddy so you could really say I am actually a long term fan cos I’m only little.

Daddy tells me that you are the chap who checks up on me and makes sure I have been a good girl and if I haven’t then I won’t get any prezzie’s. That’s a wee bit harsh don’t you think?, but it doesn’t matter to me too much at all really. Don’t tell Daddy, but the threats of no prezzie’s don’t really do it for me. If we had a chimney, you would be able to  take a wee fly by, as opposed to a drive by which is more common in the Hood, as Daddy likes to refer to our present location and check up on how well I pick things up and pass them to other people. Mind you, when I pass objects like, runner beans, breadsticks with one soggy end and on occasion Stealth Poo to other people they have to say “Ta” or I have a wee melt down and have also been known to ‘code’. 

I find this to be the best way to enforce my will on others but I am aware that this would be   frowned upon in later life and I  will have to find other ways to wind my folks, especially daddy, round my little finger, in years to come.

So when it comes to prezzie’s I’m of the view that I don’t  need stuff really although there are a few things that I wouldn’t really mind. Of course the occasion of my first birthday some months ago did yield a veritable gold mine of gifts, many of which I am still trying to eat, dribble on or hide down the back of the Settee, although, sadly, due to some “unpleasantness” over the lack of Party Bags I have been instructed by mummy and daddy never speak of this again. I do have one question though Santa. Did all the other children have glittery poo’s, or as we like to call it “code bling's” after eating my, somewhat ironic for my tea total parents, pink elephant Birthday cake?

So Santa, how’s about some wrapping paper please. I’m partial to paper though mummy and daddy say that I really shouldn’t be eating it. If you possibly can, how’s about bringing me some flavoured paper though you might just have to invent this too. Hmm, what flavors? Strawberry is my favourite at the moment though I realise that they are now well out of season so I won’t hold out much hope. I’m second favourite flavour at the moment is my doggies ear as I quite like to chew on it much to the horror of Mummy and Daddy and most probably the hound too i shoild imsgine. I’m not really sure what flavor that is though but I'm sure you will do your best for me.

On the subject of food, Santa, did I tell you that I am eating what mummy and daddy are eating now, well almost. I’m not really sure about steak pie, well that and Haggis. Despite the fact that I am Scots I can’t really understand why anyone is completely happy with the notion of eating sheep’s lungs, but I will try and usually succeed ineat pretty much anything so much so that Mummy and Daddy are in a high state of alert whenever i go near a house plant. And as for the tabloid press, yes, yes I know that paper isn’t one of my 5 a day but, for the moment, that’s the way I roll.

Daddy does get a wee bit OCD when it comes to my diet though. I don’t really mind but I draw the line at molecular gastronomy. Who does he think he is, Heston blooming Blumenthal? Daddy should know by now that I am not really a snail porridge kinda girl and I have actually moved on from nicking normal porridge from Daddy as it is not and never should be considered to be finger food.

With this in mind Santa, please may I have a pair of scissors, safety ones of course. Clearly daddy is amused at the sight of me attempting to eat spaghetti but to be honest I draw the line when it comes to re-enacting the spaghetti and meatball scene from The Lady and the Tramp with a 7 year old Springer Spaniel with soggy ears. I suspect you might want to pop the scissors in mummy’s prezzie pile as I am sure that she would like to assist me to cut my spaghetti up rather than watch me sook so hard that I poo myself.

So far so good Santa. That’s wrapping paper and scissors. All I need now is some rock and we could have a wee game going on Tee hee.

Sorry Santa, you don’t get off that lightly. Pweese Pweese Pweese can you get Daddy an audition on the X –Factor. Believe me, he sings all the time in fact I don’t think I have actually heard him say a full sentence to me unless he’s singing. I try to tell him that “let Daddy change your code browned nappy" sung in Baritone is any less humiliating if he were to actually say the words. Sadly he is as  Sister Sledge once sang “Lost in Music”.

Santa, you have not heard the half of it. Daddy’s singing was tolerable but since he got in with that bad lot at Boogie Babies he’s started to do hand movements too. Mummy told me that daddy wasn’t great shakes at doing YMCA but I am here to tell you he is hopeless at the bean bag song. What kind of role model do you call that?

 So, If you could see that Daddy get’s through to the X Factor live rounds in a Jedward or Wagner kinda way that people will ridicule him in public and if he’s lucky he’ll get a job in a holiday camp, I would be most grateful.

Santa, I’m almost done now, you will be very glad to hear. As you can see my list isn’t that long compared to some other little people I guess. I pretty much have all that I need for the moment and mummy and daddy tell me that since I got delivered by the Stork that they have everything that they could possibly wish for too.

Daddy tell’s me that on Christmas Eve we are going to make some mince pies, or Peh's as he calls them, for yourself and some carrot sticks for Rudolf so be sure to look out for them when swinging by the Hood. Before I go to bed Daddy's going to take me outside and look for the Christmas star just like he used to do with his mummy when he was little, if I see you I shall give you a wee wave.

Mummy and Daddy tell me that they can’t wait to spend their first Christmas with me, after all they have had to wait a long time for me to come along.

Yours in Anitici..................pation

Little Person xxx

 

Mummy and Daddy got to help their LP to write her first of many letters to Santa.

 

Watch out for a 12 day’s of Christmas special