Please bring my mom a shiny new tea kettle. She's burnt the crap out of the other one. While you're at it, you might want to bring her a new brain so she can actually figure out how to correctly use her stove. I don't know what her problem is, but she has a bad habit of turning on the wrong burner, which explains the blue paint left behind from the burned up tea kettle.
I think my dad would love to have a Seattle Seahawks jersey, the one that says Wilson on the back. (Did you know there's a player on the team named Wilson, Santa? My mom just thinks that's the best thing sinced sliced bread, but since she's been out of work for so long, she's going a little loco en cabeza, if you know what I mean.) It would really help us in our Sunday afternoon bonding sessions when we lay around and watch football all day if Dad had a jersey with my name on it.
I've been a really good boy, Santa, so here's my wish list: lots and lots of bones, *Wilson* tennis balls, a gigantic box of biscuits, a big jar of peanut butter, baby carrots, some cookies, and if you have any old mail, I'll be happy to tear that up into a thousand tiny pieces for you.
Thanks, Santa. I can't wait for Christmas! And just so you know, I'll be the one barking and making all the racket when you come down the chimney, because I have to alert my people.