All I want for Christmas is……yoooouuuu.

Every year, I am asked what I want for Christmas.  I hate this question.  Here’s why.

I don’t have specific things I want.  Nothing that neatly fits into a $25 to $50 category that everyone is aiming for.  And, please, I beg you, don’t try to buy me clothes.  It usually ends up like this…

And sure, I’d like a new kitchen, carpet, furniture and redone bathroom, but I don’t think that’s quite what you’re asking.  So, I thought this year, I’d tell you what I really want…

My REAL Christmas List

• A housekeeper.  I am not super picky with this one, but it is my No. 1 want.  Someone to clean my house every week.  Someone I can trust because I don’t want to be there when they are, because then I would feel guilty that I was just laying around not helping.  I’m not asking for Alice from the Brady Bunch, just someone to polish the turd that is my house.  (Don’t tell Mark, he hates when I say that, but really, see the above home improvement wish list.)

• A cook.  Maybe this is No. 1, because if there’s one thing I hate more than cleaning, it’s cooking.  I want to open up the fridge and viola! delicious, healthy meals and snacks.  A Mrs. Jones to my Christian Grey if you will.  No more nachos and Fruit Loops for me.  REAL FOOD.

• I would like my hair to do this…

when I do it.  Or I would like to pay my beloved hair stylist to come do my hair every morning.  Yes, it’s short, but that doesn’t mean it looks the way she does it after an appointment.  Seriously, how hard can 2” of hair be to style?  Apparently, very.  Plus, she also has the same intense love of smut that I do, and how fun would those conversations be every morning?!

• I would like to do this…

Heaven

every year.  Sigh… Outer Banks is Mark and me’s perfect vaca.  Big house, pre-approved family and friends (no stranger mingling), absolutely no plans and nothing to do but swim in the pool, go out to eat, and lay on the beach.

• I would like someone to help me organize this…

Honestly, we look like hoarders, but really it’s just artwork we have to wait to hide in the trash until after the kids go to sleep, because the look on their faces when they accidentally find it in the trash is too much to bear.  It’s also bills we don’t want to pay, magazines we don’t have time to read, and receipts, tons and tons of receipts.  Because if we throw them away, we will totally need proof that we ate that double cheeseburger from McD’s.  Really?  Isn’t the proof on my ass already?

• Speaking of ass proof, I would love a personal trainer.  Jillian Michaels coming to my house every day to kick my butt out of bed, saying mean things to me and making me lose the food baby I so lovingly cradle in ALL pictures for some reason.

• And while we are dreaming, maybe just one day, one itty bitty day, to do whatever the hell I want.  No one needing anything, no chores, no laundry, just me, my Kindle and/or Netflix and Hulu.  Heaven.  I wish all that spare time in my childless 20’s wasn’t so wasted on …. God, what did I do back then with all that freakin time?  I know I thought I was busy, but for the life of me, I can’t tell you what the heck I was doing…

So that’s my real Christmas list.  But that melon baller would be just as awesome too.  How else do you make cookies?