I rarely ask for much. This year is no exception. I don't need diamond earrings or comfy slippers. I only want one little thing and I want it deeply.
I want to slap Martha Stewart.
Now, hear me out, Santa. I won't scar her or draw blood, or anything. Just one good smack, right across her smug little cheek. I get all cozy inside just thinking about it. Don't grant this wish just for me, do it for millions of women across the country. Through sheer vicarious satisfaction, you'll be giving a gift to us all. Those of us leading average, garden variety lives aren't so overly concerned with gracious living.
We feel pretty good about ourselves if our plates match when we stack them on the counter, buffet-style for dinner. We're tired of Martha showing us how to make centerpieces from hollyhock dipped in 18-carat gold. We're plumb out of liquid gold, unless it's of the furniture polish variety. We can't whip up Martha's creamy holiday sauce spiced with turmeric. Most of us can't even find the turmeric, let alone figure out what to do with it.
Martha tells us that she's already making homemade holiday gifts for friends. Not just gifts, but "amazing" gifts. Martha's obviously not shy about giving herself a little pat on the back.
The letter goes on this way for a while and and ends with;
There you have it, Santa. If there was ever someone who deserved a good smack, it's Martha Stewart. But I bet I won't get my gift this year.
You probably want to smack her yourself.
Don't let trying to do it Martha's way get you down