Holiday Fiction Digest

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Dear Hanukkah Bunny

By Christine Fugate

I miss the Hanukkah bunny. When my girls were little, the pitter-patter of small rabbit feet would climb up the stairs while we were lighting the candles and eating latkes. At bedtime, the girls would squeal with delight as they found Barbie dolls and Miss Maisy books left by the infamous HB.

But now that one daughter is in college and the other is a junior in high school, the Hanukkah Bunny rarely visits.

I get it. There are other young children who deserve her attention. But just in case Ms. H. Bunny reads The Laguna Beach Independent, I wanted to put out a small plea: While I know you belong to children, I miss you. Would you be interested in adopting parents of teens, a stage of life that is even more difficult than childhood? My asks are fairly minimal and, I think, reasonable.

Firstly, the Pageant of Masters had six naked women in their show this summer. Without sounding weird (and more in the vein of fairness), would it be possible to get a David or some hunky Greek god on display? I honestly can’t go through another nipple discussion with my seatmate.

Secondly—and this one might take a phone call or two—could you ask the police department to put out traffic cops that actually stand in the intersection and direct traffic when needed? I have been backed up Park Drive so many times that my brakes are shot, once again.

And lastly, since asking you to vex people to actually stop at four-way intersections would be too much, I’m just going to put in a small request for no walls, an end to child hunger and world peace.

If those aren’t possible, then the Barbie Unicorn Goddess doll will surely bring eternal light to my eight days of Hanukkah.


Christine Fugate used to write the Indy column, “Mothering Heights.” She stopped soon after the Hanukkah Bunny stopped coming. 


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