Santa, baby, slip a sable under the tree. For me. Been an awful good girl. . ..
Those are the opening lines of the song piping through the speakers now. Seriously. And it made me think about Hubmeister’s selective hearing.
See, my Christmas wish list was pretty simple this year: an Abmat (so I can work on butterfly sit-ups outside of the box — that’s CrossFit-speak for gym). I even took a photo so he’d know exactly what to get. (Good of me, huh?)
A few weeks ago, I’d have sworn that’s what I wanted, would have insisted that nothing would make me happier. And I blissfully waltzed through the holidays, basking in the knowledge that Santa Hubby would come through.
So it was with huge anticipation I gazed at the Christmas package I got from Hubmeister this morning (who else would go through the trouble to make me laugh so hard?):
I was soooo sure an Abmat was in there, waiting for me to do crunches, waiting to be hauled out later this afternoon – before dinner – to help me earn that extra piece of Primal Cheesecake for dessert. Oh, yeah, I imagined every second as I tore into the package. Literally. *Insert blissful sigh*
Right. Turns out the man’s such a tease! Here’s what I got instead:
Yeah, okay, I’m grinning. It wasn’t what I expected, wasn’t anything close to what I wanted. But I guess I must’ve been an awfully good girl, huh?
Naughty or nice, I hope Santa brings you all you want and more! Merry Christmas!
-Melia (who plans to go out and get herself an Abmat tomorrow. . ..)