It’s been quite sometime since I wrote you a letter. I think the last one was back in the late 1980s, and from memory you didn’t come through on the hoverboard and the virtual reality machine I asked for. To be fair, you did bring me my backup options of a Sega Mega Drive II and a pair of Reebok Pumps, so I must say a very belated thank you!
You may be wondering why all of a sudden you’re receiving a wish-list from little Mikey Hughes. Well I’m no longer little Mikey Hughes, Santa. I’m big Mick Hughes. And for what it’s worth, I feel that since I haven’t asked for much from you in the last 25 years, I’m due for a couple of wishes to come my way. And before you ask me, YES, I’ve been a very good boy this year. Go ask Mrs Hughes, all your little helpers, all your reindeers and Mrs Clause if you don’t believe me.
Before I go on any further I must congratulate you on the belated Christmas present you gave Mrs Hughes and I earlier this year. I completely understand that you couldn't deliver her on Christmas Day last year, and in fact the arrival of her one month later was simply perfect. And so has the last 10 months with our little bundle of joy. So thank you, thank you, thank you! Also have I mentioned that you look very handsome today?
Okay so now that I've buttered you up a little, it's time for business. As you'll see the list below is fairly exhaustive, but I honestly believe it isn't unreasonable. Now without any further ado, here are my wishes:
I wish that you can make Charlie stop kicking me in the balls.
I wish that you can make Charlie stop trying to eat all the Christmas tinsel and decorations.
I wish that you can make Charlie stop trying to play with the toilet brush.
I wish that you can make Charlie tell us where she put the Apple TV remote.