Print edition: 
Joanna's son wants pizza for Christmas. Not a toy pizza oven or a pizza puzzle or a Singing Pizza Elmo doll (yes, it exists).
Just pizza. Plain and simple. Or possibly with extra cheese.
My friend smartly figures she should relish this phase of her son's life, when twinkle lights seem miraculous and wishes are simple, if a little unorthodox.
My daughter, when she was 3, wanted jellybeans and Coca-Cola for Christmas.
"Yeddybeans and Coke!" she'd say — to Santa, to friends, to uncles and cousins over the phone. Had Hannah's vocabulary been more developed, she likely would have explained it this way:
"I love jellybeans, but Mom rarely lets me have them. I've never tasted Coca-Cola, but I've seen other people drink it and it looks amazing. Also, it's full of calories and high fructose corn syrup, so ... Merry Christmas!"
My kids' wish lists have evolved through the years and have included such classics as bicycles, scooters, baby dolls and video games. But it's the bizarre requests that become family legend.
One year Jack, now 9, wanted a whoopee cushion. Because really, what better way to celebrate Christ's birth than with the whimsical sound of human flatulence? I spent an hour that December perusing the offerings at a local novelty shop, debating the virtues of regular versus self-inflating, before I realized my life had turned a corner.
A recent survey of some friends and Twitter followers proved that toys may change, but obscure wishes live on.
Amy's 4-year-old son wants a Snuggie for Christmas. Jennifer's daughter wants real fairy wings — pink ones that help you fly. Chandra's girl, when she was 9, loved cheese so much that she put it on her Christmas list — and Santa delivered several varieties, plus a box of crackers.
David's daughter, at 3, asked for a pair of crutches. Nothing was broken; she just wanted some. Lisa's son wanted a dolphin. He got a dolphin puppet instead —"since dolphins don't do well in Kansas," Lisa explained.
Tim wanted a trench coat when he was little, like the ones politicians wore on TV. He was sure he was destined to be president. Deena, meanwhile, remembers asking for a tan corduroy blazer "like the one Blair wore on 'Facts of Life.' "
Juliann's daughter, at 5, asked Santa for golf clubs "fer I can whack some balls." That letter — like all the rest — got saved in Juliann's treasure box.
There's nothing too strange on my kids' lists this year. Though my daughter, who we jokingly call "Grandma Hannah," recently bought a massaging foot spa with her allowance money because she didn't want to wait for Santa.
I just hope Santa remembers to stock plenty of Snuggies, dolphins, trench coats and fairy wings. And at least a few pieces of pizza.
