Dear Santa,
It’s me again, 11-year-old Bo from Mobile. Remember, I rigged the chimney with a cast net to try and catch you last year?
I hope we can both move past that.
I’ll be the first to admit, it wasn’t my best year. First there was the crawfish I swiped from the boil and kept alive in the bathtub for two days. That sure made Mom’s face turn red. But not in a jolly way like yours.
Then there was the king cake baby I put in an envelope under my pillow to try and fool the tooth fairy. But maybe that falls out of your jurisdiction. Do y’all talk?
If you can look past these tiny hiccups, I do have a few requests. A new cast net would be nice (see above). A jubilee predictor (I figure this shouldn’t be too hard for your elves to figure out). A bike with big tough wheels that can handle oak roots. Anything from the Peanut Shop.
How cold is it up there? I know everyone else probably asks for a white Christmas, but can we just have a Mobile Christmas? Otherwise the roads get icy and Grandma will be too scared to drive down Old Shell to deliver my presents.
By the way, I think you accidentally gave my Mom and sisters someone else’s big fancy personalized cups last year. We don’t know anyone named Stanley.
You must get tired of cookies, so I’ll leave out some Conecuh sausage by the fireplace. Please tell Rudolph it’s ok, there’s no reindeer in it (I don’t think). Also tell him to watch out for the live oaks. Last year, Dad had to fish my football out of one with a pool skimmer, and I’d hate for y’all to get tangled.
Sincerely, Bo
P.S. Can you please tell Nick Saban to come back? Or are you scared of him, too?
