Secret Women's Business

Dear Santa, I've been a good mum all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two cases of choc bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground. I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the wash room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in the next 18 years. Here are my Christmas wishes: I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any colour, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze; but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the lolly aisle in the supermarket. I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy. If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that on...

Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck... How to live in a world that's politically correct? His workers no longer would answer to "Elves", "Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves. And labor conditions at the North Pole, were alleged by the union, to stifle the soul. Four reindeer had vanished without much propriety, released to the wilds, by the Humane Society. And equal employment had made it quite clear, that Santa had better not use just reindeer. So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid, were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid! The runners had been removed from his beautiful sleigh, because the ruts were deemed dangerous by the RTA, And millions of people were calling the cops, when they heard sled noises upon their roof tops. Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened, And his fur trimmed red suit was called "unenlightened". To show you the strangeness of today's ebbs and flo...