“What about a clockwork train?”


“This star’s gonna take you to Rainbow Bri-i-ite!”

I don’t remember much of what I wanted for Christmas when I was a kid. I’m sure “pony” made the list at least once or twice, along with “castle with a moat,” “Rainbow Brite,” and “roll-top desk.”

What I do remember is tossing in freebies every few lines or so. These were small, cheap items intended to offset the grandness of ponies and castles. Things I didn’t even want. Things I’d never even seen. “A keychane that looks like a lollpop.” “Sope shaped like fishes.”

You get the idea.

As I grew older and developed a fondness for list-making of any sort, my Christmas Wish List started appearing earlier and earlier in the year. It now appeared in an Excel spreadsheet complete with categories, sub-categories, color coding, and item specifications (e.g. size, preferred color, quantity desired, stores where said items could be purchased). My lists were truly awesome, a guarantee I make based in part on the hope that none of them have survived the years to prove me wrong.

But these days? Oh Lord. These days I don’t know what to say when asked what I want. I think it’s because I hate the thought of real people with real financial needs funneling their hard earned cash into cushioning my relatively easy existence with festive mugs, novelty scarves, and Barnes & Noble gift cards. Especially when…

  1. I already have way more than I can handle of the kind of stuff that tends to make it into shopping carts circa gift-giving times (See: The Quintessence of My Superfluity). My apartment simply can’t handle the addition of many more nouns.
  2. I have a list as long as my arm of charities and missionaries who have an infinitely greater need for the twenty bucks you’ve set aside to buy me Santa-shaped candles.
  3. I’d so much rather shop at Half Price Books.

Yet the asking continues. And who am I to reply “Meh, nothing really” when the question is coming from folks who find happiness in giving? I enjoy giving gifts myself, so I get that feeling! What’s a girl to do? A girl’s to tell it like it is, methinks. So you wanna buy me something? Here. Here’s what I want this year…

  • A haircut
  • A visit to the chiropractor (with x-rays)
  • Laminated place mats “for the ferrets” (10)
  • Garment bag
  • New windshield
  • Lambrusco (Lo Duca; red; 3 bottles)
  • “Robin Hood: Men In Tights” dvd
  • Oil change
  • Gift cards to Pet World (because the boys need to eat), Pick N Save (because I need to eat), Walmart (because The Man needs to eat), and Half Price Books
  • Peace on earth, etc. etc.

Place mats for weasel poop?? *sigh* I miss the days of asking for CDs (with pricing from Musicland and Sam Goody), boots from dELiA’s, and jeans with sizes in the single digits!

How ‘bout you? What makes your “Grown-Up Christmas Wish List” this year? And what’s the craziest thing you ever asked for and actually received?

*Clockwork trains. We’ll look like a squadron of spitfires…

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6 comments

  1. Don’t the ferrets need a haircut? Don’t the ferrets need a visit to the chiropractor with x-rays? Don’t the ferrets need a new windshield? Don’t the ferrets need an oil change?

    Selfish.

    1. Missionary much? *plbbbbbbbbt*

      (And no, they don’t need a visit to the chiro. I palpate their backs and bellies on a weekly basis. I am awesome at ferret mom-ing.)

  2. Ya know, now that all of my books are eBooks, and all of my CDs are MP3s, and all of my DVDs are iTunes movies, I can’t think of a damned thing anyone could actually buy me. Maybe a bigger external hard drive?

    1. Ah yes. A truly drool-worthy request.

      My current external drive has space for more than I actually have, resulting in my desire to acquire more digital media for the express purpose of filling the drive to the point that I need a new one. :P

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