If you're a fan of Susanna Hill's blog, you'll know that her holiday writing contest is open now! The rules for this year:
"Write a children’s holiday story (children here defined as approximately age 12 and under) using the basic format/concept of The Twelve Days Of Christmas! Your story may be poetry or prose, silly or serious or sweet, religious or not, based on Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or whatever you celebrate, but is not to exceed 300 words..."
And coming in exactly at 300 words, my 2016 entry:
Griselda's Christmas Witch List
by Johnell DeWitt
Dear Santy Claws,
You haven’t brought me anything for eleven Christmases. I’ve been a good witch, so I’m sure it’s a mistake.
Yours wickedly,
Griselda
Dear Griselda,
You have been a good witch. Please send your list.
Love,
SantA ClaUS
Dear Santy Claws,
Here’s my list from each of the Christmases you missed (plus interest):
12 hungry children
11 tubs of frosting
10 walls of gingerbread
9 taffy curtains
8 giant gum drops
7 yards of licorice
6 pounds of peppermints
5 chocolate soldiers
4 cookie cobblestones
3 sugared steps
2 candied roof tops
And this year, an industrial-sized child proof oven.
All the Worst,
Griselda
Dear Griselda,
I thought your list sounded familiar. Fortunately, I read to my elves every night. We will not bring you children for Christmas.
Santa Claus—no “y” and no claws.
Dear Santy Claws,
I only want the sweet kiddies to help me decorate my gingerbread house. It gets lonely for witches at Christmas. How could a nice guy like you think so ill of me?
Grumbly yours,
Griselda
Dear Griselda,
I’m sure then, that the recipe for ‘Kid Knee Pie’ was not meant to be on the back of your last letter?
Santa—with an A and Claus—no WS!
Dear Santy Claws,
I recycle like all good witches. I reused that old paper to write you a letter. If you send it back, I’ll return it to the recycling bin.
Impatiently awaiting my presents,
Griselda
Dear Griselda,
Some kids and the other presents will arrive soon.
Merry Christmas,
Santy Claws
Dear Twerp,
Those baby goats ate everything! All they left was the oven, and I’m not setting one foot near there. I read too, you know. You just wait until October 31st. No treats for you!
Never yours,
Griselda