Wish List, Item 1: Belly Laughs

At the request of her parents, one of Waffle Guy's daughters sends out a holiday wish list to a few key relatives. It's a very exciting thing to get, not only because her wishes are adorable, but because it instantly prompts my inner six-year-old to feel gleeful and joyous. Did you do that, as a kid?

 Remember sitting down with a toy catalog and circling every imaginable toy? Remember wondering what sort of magic you'd discover on Christmas morning?

Remember being certain that there would be magic?

In recent years, I've been an ardent subscriber to the "it is far better to give than to receive" school of the holidays. I'm sticking to it, for the time being, because there's a thrill in giving that is unparalleled, and I will continue to selfishly seek that high as often as possible.

But when I looked over the wish list in my email inbox, it occurred to me that a wish list is perhaps an exercise in faith. That Waffle Kid sits in her apartment, and compiles a collection of things that she believes will enhance her life. And then she sends them to people that she knows are waiting for it, wishing to make her happy. She is certain that there will be magic, too. Her list is proof.

And so, I browsed a Web site or two, looking for silly things that would make me smile. And I compiled my own list, imagining opening each of those ridiculous items and guffawing so hard that I ached. Really, it doesn't matter one iota whether I get any of them or not. The point is, I learned some important things about wanting.

First, it's not greedy to wish for things. Wanting exciting and new things in our lives is what keeps our lives exciting and new. It's possible to be generous and to want.

I know what I want for Christmas this year: A house full of people, a great big dinner, and a whole lot of laughs.

And also, this marshmallow gun.