All I want for Christmas this year is a pair of good hands for my mommy.
You’ve probably seen her on TV. She’s the wind-up lady in the PRISTIQ antidepressant commercial with wrong, mitten-like hands.
Having wrong hands like that makes her very sad. The drug company people drew her like that because hands are so hard to draw. Shouldn’t they learn how to draw better before they’re allowed to make people for TV? I can’t draw hands that good either but I bet I could do better than how they made my mommy.
She can’t smoke cigarettes or play Monopoly with me. Her clunky mitten hands knock over all the hotels on Boardwalk and sometimes I just want to not play with her anymore. Plus she can’t decorate birthday cakes too well. She can’t make that squeeze thing work right. You know, the one like they use on the Cake Boss? The last cake she made for me looked like a big blob of blue poop. She cried and said she was sorry but I didn’t mind. It still tasted okay.
It’s real hard for her to eat popcorn too. She has to hold the microwave bag between both mittens and pour it into her mouth. It spills all over the carpet and she says the F word. And safety pins? Forget it. It’s a good thing we had disposable diapers when I came along.
I’m sure glad they don’t draw children with wrong, mitten-like hands. That would be awful. Every night I pray to the lord and thank him for giving me good hands and ask if he would consider fixing mommy’s but so far no luck.
That’s why I’m writing to you, Santa. I hope you can find it in your heart to bring my wind-up PRISTIQ mommy a new set of hands this Christmas. Ones with real fingers and thumbs.
Advertise your message and text link on this page. Click here for details.DISCLAIMER: This blog is fictional parody written by a real estate nut who makes things up and writes them down. Don't believe a word she says.