2 Dec 2003
Deer Santuh Klaws,
Hi! This iz Sarah. I am 7-years-old. I kant wate for Chrismus so I kan get prezents! Im going to leeve you some cukies by the firplace. I luv you, Santa!
Luv,
Sarah
Dear Sarah,
And I’m going to leave you something called a dictionary. Be sure to use it, sweetheart.
Dear Santa,
Merry Christmas! As I’m writing you this, I’m looking at a picture of you and me at the mall last year. I was crying a lot because I was scared, but now I’m 6 and I’m scared of nothing!
For Christmas, please send me a big flashlight and lots of batteries for my little brother who…uh…shares my bedroom with me and he’s…uh…scared of the dark. Yeah, he’s scared of the dark, Santa, and he wants a big flashlight, one of those with the big square batteries. Yeah.
Thanks!
Love,
Peter
Dear Peter,
I see you when you’re sleeping, I know when you’re awake. And I know damn well you don’t have a little brother who “shares your bedroom” with you. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. A flashlight it is!
P.S. Your older brother is still living in the orphanage. Did your parents ever tell you that you were adopted?
Dear Santa,
I have a question for you. How do you get down my chimney when I know for a fact that it’s a small opening and you are quite a fat man? How do, Santa? How do?
Love,
Jeffrey, age 7
Dear Jeff,
The same way your mother was able to squeeze her fat a$$ into that smoking chiffon the other night for that corporate dinner. Magic.
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