Thursday, December 10, 2015

Dear Mr. Lord, Sir

Courtesy of the Open Clip Library
Do you remember the excitement this time of year brought when you were a child? I was thinking the other day about how I lost my enthusiasm for the holiday season once my sons were of a certain age. Amazing how the glitzy stores and the commercial hype soured so quickly after that. Some acquaintances accuse me of being an old Scrooge, and they might be right. So this year I sought to see Christmas through a child’s eyes anew, and the following came to me.

Dear Mr. Lord, Sir

Dear Mr. Lord, Sir, I’m kinda new at this, so I hope I do okay. Mom and Grams are lots better at it than I am, especially Grams. She can go on and on almost as long as Preacher Pasternack down at church. But she doesn’t get as mad as he does. He shouts and wants You to do this and damn (I’m not supposed to say that) something else. Sometimes I think the pastor wants You to spank everybody’s bottom for all their sinning.
Never heard Dad and Pops praying like this. But I know they talk to You because I’ve heard them, usually when I do something to make them mad or they slam a door on a finger or that kinda crap.
There’s some things I need to say before we come down to the good stuff, so we might as well get it out of the way. Can You bless my folks and the Gramps? And even Suzie, I guess. Yeah, You oughta do that. She’s not too bad for a sister. But You can yank her pigtails, if you want. Mom won’t let me do it, but You can probably get away with it.
Suppose I oughta ask You to bless me, too. Oh, yeah, and forgive me. According to Mom, it’ll take a whole lot of forgiving for me. Suzie says I’m way past re-dem-shun, but I don’t even think she know what that is. If I’m past it, she’s bound to be way down the road ahead of me. So You don’t have to waste any time on that kind of stuff.
We can lump Aunt Helen and Uncle Bosco and Cousin Jim together and get them out of the way. Course, seems like you already blessed Jim enough, ‘cause he doesn’t have a sister to put up with. If You can just bless them, that takes care of that. There are some others I’m supposed to mention, but I’m getting kinda sleepy and we aren’t even down to the stuff that really counts yet. Besides, You know who they are, so just take care of them … please.
Okay, pay attention now. I don’t know how Santa Claus stands with You, but ya’ll both run around up in heaven – at least on Christmas Eve when he’s in that sleigh– so You’re bound to brush up against him now and then. Would You please flag him down and tell him to forget about socks and underwear and things like that? Do You know how embarrassing it is to open up a package and show off your shorts to everybody in the room? Things are bad enough without that.
You might tell him … you know, Santa … to read what I wrote him in the letter this year. I spent a whole hour printing it out. Most of the time he doesn’t pay much attention to what I say.
Anyway, I really, really, really want the air rifle. But I think I’d like it to be a pellet gun, instead. They’re way better, I hear. Mom says I’m too little for one, but I can hold Jeff Bascomb’s Ridley Airgun steady, so I oughta be all right. And if I had it, Suzie wouldn’t pester me so much. She’d be too scared.
But the thing I really, really, really, really want is the Super Spy Skycraft Drone. And if You tell Santa to make it big enough, I could just crawl on top of it and fly myself all over the place. That way, I could get to grade school without running into those bullies from the third grade. Do You know how icky it is to walk to school with Suzie just so they talk to her and don’t pick on me? Ugh!
Suppose I oughta ask you to have him bring Suzie what she wants, even though it’ll be paper dolls and Pick-Up Jacks and sissy stuff like that. I know she’s asking for a big doll house this year, and that might be okay. I can play like there’s bank robbers holed up in it and shoot it full of holes with my new pellet gun. That’s funny. Shoot holes in their hole. That doesn’t sound very nice, so I probably oughta take it back. Mr. Lord, can you back something out of a prayer? Well, You know what I mean.
That’s about all. The important stuff, anyway. Oh, this is Jeremy, but I guess You knew that already. Grams says you know everything. Everything I’m doing and everything I’m thinking. Boy, I sure hope she’s wrong.
And Mr. Lord, Sir, You might want to write all this down so you don’t forget to tell Santa Claus what he’s supposed to do.
Oh, yeah. Amen.


Wish I had been that bold when I was a child. Come to think of it, I’m still not.

As always, thanks for reading. I’m interested in your reaction.


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