All I Want for Christmas

Dear Santa,

We have a problem. The Pollywogs, all seven of us, wanted a Pollywog vacation for Christmas, but now we can’t go and it’s all your fault. Well, not your fault exactly, but one of your reindeer. Let me explain.

My name is Anna Lauren (but you already know that), and I’m in Kindergarten. Grammy put me in Mrs. Cha’s class, because she likes to keep her eyeballs on me. Mrs. Cha was Grammy’s student in eighth grade, and Grammy has her email address. I like school and love telling ‘Once Upon a Time’ stories. Even more than that, I love going on Pollywog vacations. The very best thing in the whole world is playing with my cousins.

This year, Bryan and I looked for dinosaurs at the La Brea Tar pits, and Tyler and I spent one day holding a baby monkey named Lisa at Little French Key. I watched princess movies with Aiden and played hide-and-go-seek with Wynn. Keegan took me to the bathroom in the middle of white tablecloth dinners. Leighton is my sister, but I still like to play with her.

Pollywogs love beach vacations, because we don’t really spend much time on the beach. Salt water up your nose and sand inside your swim suit—ugh! We like beach vacations where you ride a camel, sit in a wind tunnel, see a mummy, feed lorikeets, stand very still for butterflies, play laser tag, watch movies, eat junk food, and swim in the pool. The Littles—Wynn, Aiden, and Leighton—mostly babble in baby talk, take each other’s toys, and poop. But they love a good Pollywog vacation, too.

Pollywogs are good at cave tubing, zip lining, and dancing to a Zydeco band. We eat beignets and lick the confectioner’s sugar off the saucer. Last year I ate iguana soup, and this year I ate alligator and frog legs. Keegan eats sushi, but she’s the only kid I know who does that.

There are two things we don’t like—getting covered with sunscreen that gets in our eyes and nostrils and all the picture-taking. We get really tired of being good and smiling. One time Grammy let us wear our favorite outfits, fix our hair all by ourselves, and bring props. Grammy’s prop was Leighton’s pink Crocs hanging on her ears. That was the best picture ever!

I wanted to go on a Pollywog vacation for Christmas, but at first, Bryan was afraid you wouldn’t know where we were. Then we remembered that the Tooth Fairy always found us, so we weren’t worried any more. Last summer when I dropped my tooth on the deck at the beach and it fell through the slats, Aunt Rachel called security to bring a flashlight. She laid on her stomach for about an hour but never did find my tooth. Grammy texted the Tooth Fairy and explained the situation. Bryan lost two teeth on a cruise ship, and the Tooth Fairy found him in Cozumel. We think you’re at least as good at finding children as the Tooth Fairy.

Then we got the bad news. Grammy said we couldn’t go on a Pollywog vacation for Christmas, because “Grandpa got run over by a reindeer” and needs a new hip. Then he nearly cut off his finger while he was building something. Good grief!
Please bring Papa another hip for Christmas. I’ll speak to Jesus about healing the finger. Maybe next year I can get a Pollywog vacation for Christmas.

Love,
Anna Lauren
PS—I’ll leave you some milk and cookies, but I’m not feeding your naughty reindeer.