Silly Wishes

Just a little free advice to parents of female up and comer tweens. DO NOT…I repeat, DO NOT allow them to write a Christmas wish list.

You see, well other little ten year old girls have visions of Bratz dolls and Nelly Furtado CD’s dancing in their heads, my little Shelby has:

Some kind of playstation or Nintendo thingamajiggy that is worth more than me having to sell one of her little kidneys. Yes, I am not above that.

A real live puppy. Yeah. Right. I hate dogs. She should’ve taken better care of the darn'd reptiles, Luigi, and Susan that I caught for her in summer. Now, THEY were cute.

Her very own website or e-mail address. HAHAHAHA….yeah, just so she can fall in web-love with a 60 year old naked/fat/hairy man from Utah who says he’s a 13 yr old boy named Logan who loves horses and High School Musical 2. He’ll then convince her to meet him at Chuckie Cheese. And then next thing you know, she’s got her very own picture on a milk carton. GAH….

A set of two-way radios or better yet…A CELL PHONE. It would be like a bad horror flick. Her and her BFF texting back and forth…”LIKE, OMG, hez SOSO HAWT”.

(excuse me whilst I go rinse the barf out of my mouth)

Luckily, she had a few other normal things like a CD/stereo system and some stupid Polly Pocket garbage. And that’s what she’s getting.

Barry and I are firm believers that raising your children modestly will teach them to grow up knowing the value of a dollar, and that materialism cannot buy love. So probably, we won’t need to sell vital organs or cancel our plans of purchasing a new Graham-mobile. We managed to keep our Christmas spending under our $500 limit and I must say, I’m darn’d proud.

Oh, and don’t even get me started on the list of our little Mr.G.I.Joe. I need a translator to understand all that Megatron and Laser Imperial Star Destroyer stuff.

Whatever happened to Barbie and Hot Wheels?