When I was little, one of the best parts about Christmas was the Sears Wish Book. My brother and I flipped through the catalog and initialed the toys that we wanted for Christmas. I would try to be conservative and initial just a reasonable number of gifts. But then I got drunk on the pages and pages of toys - doll houses! ant farms! boardgames! stuffed animals! microscopes! swing sets! And like a drunken frat boy, I would black out and initial about 370 different toys.
It was not the best strategy. Did I really expect Santa to deliver 370 toys? I was a pretty good kid, but no one is that good. I should have initialed, at most, ten or twelve toys, and maximized my chances of getting the toys that I really wanted.
Sears still publishes the Wish Book, but I stopped initialing its pages years ago. And if I did initial its pages today, I'd mark boring crap, like a humidifier, new dust buster, and a soap dispenser. (If I was feeling really sassy, I'd initial a set of metal shelves for the garage).
But even though I've grown up, I still have an unattainable wish list. I suppose you could say I've graduated from the Sears Wish Book. This year, I secretly covet:
- A Segway (but I would graciously accept a golf cart, dune buggy or a mint green Vespa).
- A confetti cannon (a girl should always be ready to make a dramatic entrance).
- A copy of Thump, Thump, Thump, one of my favorite books when I was a child. It's out of print now. Maybe Santa will steal the library's copy for me?
As you can see, I have matured. My secret wish list does not include an Italian villa, a pet dinosaur or dinner with Benjamin Franklin. Its short and very practical. Santa should be able to fit these gifts down my chimney easily.