Anyway, there are authors all over the blogosphere this week telling their five wishes. There are sentimental wish lists (see Karen's,) as well as many hilarious ones. See any "5 wishes" posts on my sidebar...
When I was little, I could rock a wish list. Alphabetical and in perfect handwriting via the Toys R Us catalog. As a teen, I would wish for anything in a mall window. We never had a lot of money, so wishes were about all that was happening, but still, it was always fun to dream. As I got older, my wishes became more of a "needs" list, like pots and pans or other things for the home. Nowadays, my wishes are for the health and happiness of my family and friends, or you know, fabric.
With the past week's happenings, I felt like I couldn't do justice to any sentimental type of personal wish post. I have a warm home, my husband and my children. What more, after last Friday could anyone ask for? Absolutely nothing, other than mended hearts, trust and hope. Those are things that will take some of us the rest of our lives to get back.
Until I get my sarcasm or humor back, (Did I ever really have them in the first place? Oh, of course I did.) I'm leaving you with my semi-serious wish list. Semi as in it is a partial list. Serious as in, seriously, feel free to wrap it up for me. Each one under ten bucks. That's my gift to you.
1. A tennis ball and string. The kind my husband can hang in the garage so I can park my car. I know; I am my grandmother. I could blame it on my vision, but the truth is, my garage is so full off crap, I can't judge where it (the crap) begins and my garage door ends. Approximate cost: $5
2. A pack of pencils and/or pens. Yes, I was a teacher. Yes, I have three kids and tutor students. Still, I can never find a writing utensil. I'm always writing lists or notes. I'd like for once to record an idea without having to scribble it down with the nub of a blue crayon. Approximate cost: $3 per pack
3. Paper. To write those lists on. I don't like using my phone for that. It takes me 3.5 days to write out a post for this blog. My fat thumbs can't type that quickly. So paper, it is. Not the back of napkins or my counter tops. Not even the palm of my hand. Just available, easy-to-reach, paper. Approximate cost: $3. Less, if you make it yourself.
4. Box-Tops. You cut them out of any of YOUR participating groceries at home and give them to me. At the end of the grading quarters, my younger children race to collect them for school. I'm sick of reaching for cereal or cake mix and having the boxes torn apart and looking like we have rats. The "box-tops" have nice cutting lines around them. Use a shiny pair of scissors, cut those babies out, and give them to me. Approximate cost: Free, unless you now feel the need to go buy cake mix or toaster strudel.
Wrong way to remove Box-tops
Correct way to remove Box-tops
5. Fuzzy socks or a tank top. If I am not freezing cold, I'm having hot flashes. You can't go wrong with either one. Or both. Approximate cost $9.99 and under. Target. Go. Now.
Cheers to your wishes coming true, friends.