I think this is going to be the 10th Christmas in a row that Santa doesn’t bring me a garage. I’m starting to really dislike the guy. I mean, I only ask for one thing, right? A garage. It doesn’t even have to be that big and fancy. I’ll take a plain one. I’ll even handle painting the inside and putting up shelves and hooks so we’ll have a formal place to hang up our shovels (snow and the other kind. Dirt?) and our power tools that we don’t really use as much as we should, which you can tell by looking at the shrubs in front of the house.
So I don’t think Santa is bringing a garage because he probably already would have had to start working on it, don’t you think? It’s only a few days until Christmas (Junior can do the math, so he has reminded me about 700 times that it’s only three more days – see, public schools work!) and I think they’d have to put in some kind of foundation. I’m resigned to looking out the window on Saturday morning and seeing my driveway. Resigned, but not happy about it.
