When I was a kid, I seriously thought there would be tons and tons of screwing-around time.

I am sad to say that I was mistaken.

I don't know why I had that idea. My parents didn't have that much free time, what with work and dealing with two little monsters, running around creating havoc at all times and in all places, so I guess I must have gotten that idea from TV.

They never show all the little things adults have to do on TV. I think I should sue.

I will sue TV. All of it. My lawsuit shall be for willful inflicting of damage onto my brain and insidey parts because they made me think being a grown-up was going to be all rollerskating and watching TV and eating sandwiches.

It is not.

Therefore, they owe me one kajillion dollars for emotional distress, another kajillion for intestinal distress, and a book of coupons for free Whoppers, because I haven't had one of those in a while but I'm kind of feeling like I want one right now.

That'll show you, Mr. Drummond. With your casual dress shirt and slacks. Or Mr. Belvedere, with your apron that never really got dirty and your hands which looked suspiciously smooth.

Mrs. Garrett, too. With her bouffant hairdo and sassy attitude.

You guys made me think this was going to be a piece of cake. I'm here to inform you that it is not, so I'm suing you. All of you.

Not the actors, though. They were just being their awesome actor selves.

I've written a letter to Santa, explaining the whole situation. I'm hoping he takes pity on me and grants me a ton of time where I can just watch some TV and eat ice cream right out of the carton. 

He can do that, you know. He's magic. That's why the debate on his skin color is ridiculous. He can turn into a chameleon if he wants. For crying out loud, he can visit the whole world in one night, he has flying reindeer and he can squeeze his ginormous butt down a chimney (not to mention the fact that he hasn't had a heart attack). He's magic. He doesn't look the same to everybody. Just accept it and move on.

So watch out, TV. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I'm pretty sure all of my problems are your fault, so I'm totally taking you to court for that two kajillion dollars and book of Whopper coupons. I won't settle for less. 

Well, maybe I will. It depends on how hungry I get. I might settle for just the Whoppers. But, no Whoppers, no deal.

(Photo from http://www.thecriticalcondition.com/2009/05/08/link/)