All I want for Christmas is a little more time with the people I miss.
All I want for Christmas is a little less time with all the bullshit.
Currently they say it’s eight below but feels like 34 below.
Not sure it matters. My body doesn’t seem to know.
I would like a Christmas where it doesn’t drop below 20.
But then again, I wouldn’t have a reason to spend all day under the covers,
watching Christmas Eve snowflakes chase each other,
like Christmas morning pancakes chase warm butter.

All I want for Christmas is to be able to sit back, relax,
and watch a snowperson build themselves
while I hunt for the elf-on-the-shelf
that I haven’t seen since 2018.
(Don’t give up buddy. I’m still looking for you. Hang in there.)

When I was a kid, I used to like to look through JCPenney’s catalogs
and circle all the things that I thought that I wanted and listen to people on the radio sing about Santa Claus, and yuletide logs, and I still don’t know what those are.

All I want for Christmas is a little more time with the people I miss,
a little less time with all the bullshit.
Maybe some swearing in the caroling.
I would like for all those people that like to steal packages off of porches
to get the deepest, darkest, itchiest, achiest diarrhea that there’s no cure for.
And you have it till at least mid-2024. It’s not even in the medical journals.
And every time that you have it, you know where you got it because you earned it.
You deserve it. Because karma is undefeated.

All I want for Christmas is for all the pets that I’ve ever had to be back in the same room at the same time one more time so I could look deep into their eyes and drink in that medicine that’s only inside of them. The kind of stuff that only they can bring. Thank them for everything. Pet’em, play fetch with’em. Let’em dig through the trash.
And this time I wouldn’t even get upset.

Because all I want for Christmas is a little more time with the people I miss.
I’d also like a little less anxiety inside of me, or at least somebody to sit beside me
and remind me that it’s just my body high-fiving me as many times as I need.
I would like to be able to braid enough tinsel together so I could tightrope walk to the other side, tell my sister how much I miss her, and I love her, one more time. Tell her how I’m still trying to figure out how to be here without her. How I still need her. Still can’t wrap my mind around the fact I’m no longer a big brother.

All I want for Christmas is a little more time with the people I miss,
a little less time with all the bullshit.
I would like for people who make fudge – check this out – Don’t put the nuts in the fudge.
Put the plain fudge out and then put a bowl of nuts that you normally bake in there,
but you don’t combine them anymore. Like that Offspring song, you keep them separated. Because that’s how it’s meant to be. It wrecks it. You’ve been wrecking it.
This is a reckoning of your wrecking. You don’t put the nuts in there.
People can just grab both if they want both.
And it’s not even an allergy thing for me, it’s just a texture deal.
Thank you and you’re welcome.

We’d like to go back in time to smalltown Minnesota.
We used to race cardboard boxes for sleds.
Watching steam rising now from underneath the stocking-covered heads.

All I want for Christmas is a little more time with the people I miss,
a little less time with all the bullshit.
I’d like to be able to watch my grandma baking and smoking at the same time, one more time. Where she’s got a knife with frosting all over it in one hand. And in the other hand, she’s got a Belair 100 cigarette. If you leave that menthol smoke out of the recipes,
those gingerbread people, they don’t act or taste just right.

All I want for Christmas is 84 seconds of mistletoe bliss.
January Jones, if you’re watching this –
 not trying to be creepy – but call me.

All I want for Christmas is a little more time with the people I miss,
a little less time with all the bullshit.
What I want for Christmas is for you, mm-hmm, you, to accept and appreciate you all the way through.
If you can’t get there this year, just a little more every year, till one morning you wake up and only believe things about you that are true.

Because I got nothing but love for you.
And all I want for Christmas is a little more time with the people I miss,
a little less time with all the bullshit.

– Travis Jacobs