I was in my bathroom with hot air blasting into the side of my head. “I should ask for a new blow dryer for Christmas,” I thought, as my current one is older than my college degree and pretty much just as useless.
Just then, the kids burst in the room. The not-so-little one yelled, “She keeps taking my Batman toys and throwing them!” and the little one yelled, “Bisha trow Matman in da snarf!”
“Guys! I just need five minutes to finish doing this, OK? Then I will help you,” I said.
Ha. LIKE that worked. They continued to scream at me while I continued to pretend not to hear them over the blow dryer. That’s when it hit me that I don’t want a new blow dryer for Christmas – I just want five minutes.
Yes, all I want for Christmas is five minutes. I want five minutes alone in the bathroom to finish drying my hair. Or five minutes alone to put on mascara and maybe even get super fancy and thrown on some earrings.
Actually, I want 10 minutes. I don’t want to sound greedy or anything, but if I could just have 10 minutes, that would be wonderful. Ten minutes would give me enough time to shower and get dressed without having to step over whining children. I could even take my time picking out which clothes I want to wear.
Wait, OK, sorry, I’m actually going to need 15 minutes. But that’s it, really. I forgot that I want to be able to blow dry my hair in addition to showering and getting dressed.
… Yeah, but I mean, if I want to look presentable, I’m really going to need at least 30 minutes to an hour. Blow drying my hair is great, but I’d like to have some time to style it, you know? And maybe try on a few different outfits with various shoes.
Well, there’s no point in getting all dolled up for nothing.
With four hours, I could get dressed, look amazing, go to dinner with my husband, get drinks AND dessert, and maybe we could even take the long way home.
OK, so all I want for Christmas is four hours. An evening. Actually, a weekend. An entire week alone at the beach. Two weeks. I WANT AN ENTIRE MONTH.
But, a month is a really long time. My kids will start wondering what happened to me. So maybe I was a little rash. I don’t really need a month. I don’t even need a week.
Maybe just an evening.
But is a Christmas wish really worth spending on something I could get if I just hired a babysitter?
No, I don’t need an evening.
I think I would still like those five minutes though. Just five minutes to take a breath, stare into space and forget about life for a little bit. Oh, how deliciously wonderful those five minutes would be.
So please, Santa, or baby Jesus, or Wal-Mart (sorry, it’s hard to tell who runs the show these days), this is my official wish: All I want this year is just those five minutes. I’ll save them for a time I really need them, I promise. That should be enough to get me to next year. Five little minutes.