Midlife Letter to Santa

Dear Santa,

Typically, my letters start with, “I have been a very good girl,” but this year, not so much. I’ve been wearing my skirts a little shorter, tipping the rum bottle a bit more, and gallivanting about at all hours of the night. But honestly, why does one have to be either naughty or nice? Why can’t one be nice most of the time with only occasional spurts of naughtiness? Do you claim to have never been naughty? Not even during your midlife crisis? I guess this would have been around 1128 AD, so your crisis might have manifested itself a bit differently than mine.

I turned forty-five last week, and I’ve realized time is short, and I need to grab every opportunity with gusto. Make up for lost time. Use the last remaining vestiges of youth, sometimes for good, and sometimes for the oh-so-good, if you know what I mean. Wink-wink!

They say you can see when we’re being bad or good, so you have probably enjoyed my midlife crisis just as much as I have. For that reason alone, I deserve the following Christmas presents:

1. Hair products that give me a fantastic blonde shade, covering the gray, without causing dryness. At the moment, my bangs are so brittle that I am in constant fear of them breaking off and leaving me looking a bit like the hem of Fred Flintstone’s skirt.

2. A push-up bra that actually works on the body of a forty-five year old. Last week, I had to stand on my head to get all the parts into their proper place. And then when I stood upright, my back fat had slipped over the top of the bra rather than staying squished underneath. This was not a merry sight.

3. I have not been much of a lipstick wearer in my life, but I find there are occasions when bleached hair and push-up bras call for painted lips. So, if you could, please, bring me a shade of red that is more cherry, less fire engine, and not too rosy. Also, a nice brand that doesn’t bleed onto my recently whitened teeth.

4. I am having a hard time keeping the rum cabinet, I mean liquor cabinet, stocked, so alcohol is always welcome. I want quality lipstick, but I’m okay with cheap rum. I can’t tell the difference after the second glass anyway.

5. I have found that staying out all night affects my body quite differently than it did two decades ago. By morning, I am exhausted, in pain, and everything on my body is sagging. So, I could use some stamina, comfortable yet attractive dancing shoes, and hyper-elastic facial skin.

6. For the summer months, I need a tan, lean, good-looking pool boy. If you want to also bring a pool, that would be great, but is not entirely necessary.

7. Now that relations have been re-established, perhaps when you swing through Cuba you could pick up a couple of cigars for me. Actually, you could pick up the pool boy there, too.

8. Five pairs of blinders; one for each of my kids. They find my mid-life crisis slightly disturbing, and would really like to hide their eyes until it’s over.

Thanks, Santa! Together, we can soften the blows of midlife, and make this year the “nicest” one yet.

Dearest Santa

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