[lfjokes] Exchange with Santa

[Adam Shand]

From: Lorena Lara <lorenalara at infovia.com.ar>

Dear Santa

My son and Santa Claus have been pen pals every Christmas since he first
learned to write.  Traditionally, letters to Saint Nick are stuffed in the
stockings hanging over the wood stove we call our "fireplace," and are
answered via the same mysterious process that allows the jolly old elf to
descend down a six-inch stove pipe every Christmas Eve.

Here is this year's exchange:

Dear Santa:

For Christmas this year I would like a guinea pig.  I have other stuff I
want, but I wanted to get the guinea-pig request in early.

Signed, the Best Boy in the World

Dear Best Boy:

You are not getting a guinea pig.  Are you forgetting what happened to the
goldfish you had, and also to the mice you were given for your birthday?
Please ask for something reasonable, like a new rake to help your father
in the yard.  That request I can fill immediately.

Dear Santa:

Well the directions never said you can't take goldfish into the bathtub
with you so how was I supposed to know?  And the thing with the mice was
not my fault, it was the cat's fault.

I also want a go-cart.

Dear Pet Boy:

Surely you knew that sitting on the fish would not be good for them.  And
I hardly think the cat can be blamed for its instinctive pursuit of the
mice once you left the cage door open.  I'm sorry, but you may have no
more rodents, and that's final.

Regarding your new request:  You have already demonstrated an unnerving
tendency to succumb to the gravitational pull of the earth, hurling
yourself headfirst off of your bicycle and your skate board.  A go-cart
would merely accelerate this process.  How about instead of a go-cart you
get a wheelbarrow to help haul the leaves you'll be raking.

Dear so-called Santa:

A guinea pig is not a rodent, it is a member of the pork family.

How about you get me a little trailer for my go-cart and I'll haul leaves
in that.

Plus I also want a drum set.

Oh, and I think you should know, my dad is not using the exercise bike you
got him last Christmas.  I guess it goes against his instinctive pursuit
of getting fat.

Dear Drummer Boy:

No pigs of any kind, including those related to rats.  No catapulting
yourself headfirst from a go-cart into the emergency room.  No banging on
drums, or doing anything to create any noise except the sounds of yard
work.

And your father is planning on starting his exercise program just as soon
as his schedule settles down.

Dear Saint Nick Picker:

Well excuse me for thinking that Christmas was for something besides
better homes and gardens.

If I can't have a go-cart, I want a snowmobile.

Oh, and I think you'd better take another look at my dad:  All he has on
his schedule is watching TV and drinking beer.  If he settles down any
more, he's going to slide off of his chair and onto the floor.  Mom says
the only way to tell that he's still alive is by his belches.

Dear Incorrect Boy:

Your father works hard and occasionally takes in a game on TV to relax.
There is nothing wrong with this.

And a snowmobile?  Are you crazy?  Not only are they dangerous, do you
have any idea how much a snowmobile costs?  Please pick something
affordable.

Dear Santa Flaws:

Well why do you care what it costs?  I thought you had a bunch of dwarfs
working for you who built everything in your workshop.

If I can't have a guinea pig I want a monkey.

Dear Boy:

A monkey?  You cannot have a monkey.

Dear Chris Crumple:

I'm the only kid in my school without a pet.

But Son,

I refuse to believe anybody in your school has a monkey.  It is illegal.

Dear Santa Laws:

Well then can I have a guinea pig?

Dear Son:

Well... we'll see