Buying the biggest teddy bear ended up in her almost suffocating under its weight, as Miguel insisted on dragging it to her bed every night for a snuggle. He might not be able to express it aloud, but he showed his love in his own way.

But that was all Miguel gave her. Nothing brought a smile. Not the old Looney Tunes characters falling off cliffs or whacking each other with giant hammers. Not that cat who liked to sit in their apartment window licking its butt.

Since his dad died, not even a hint of a smile graced his lips.

When motherly methods failed, she’d attempted more extreme measures.

For Valentine’s Day, she tried offering flowers and chocolates to Cupid. Left a note promising anything in return. Cupid swiped left.

Easter? She’d left some of her famous Buffalo chicken casserole for the bunny, only to find out he was vegan in a scathing note left behind.

Mustering up her courage, she’d stripped and danced around the May pole. All that happened was a mosquito bite on her ass.

A naked jig at Halloween around a bonfire, while fun, hadn’t brought the devil. She found out later it was because his wife insisted on monogamy.

During it all, she’d prayed to God but understood he might be angry at her. She’d not been able to attend a service since getting pregnant with Miguel. She projectile vomited the moment she stepped foot on church property.

Once Miguel was born, Merry was fine, but her son went into violent spasms whenever she got near holy ground. Must be some kind of weird magnetic effect. She stopped going and prayed at home. It didn’t appear to have any effect. Miguel was a shadow of his happy boy self.

I need a Christmas miracle. And she knew of only one person who could help. She kept writing her note, tip of her tongue between her lips, as she concentrated on the letters she had to write.

He’s a good boy.

Miguel was the best of sons, but his mother? Much as she tried, she sometimes couldn’t seem to help being bad. Why, just the other day, rather than wait in the rain with Miguel for the next bus, she ignored the man in the lovely, probably expensive suit behind her who would probably need to have it dry cleaned because of the weather. She could have offered he get on the bus first, but she knew this bus would have little room at this hour. And it was raining.

She felt horrible about her selfishness. Would it be held against her? It was said Santa knew when you were sleeping, awake, bad, or good. Her request would probably go into the trash bin. But still, she had to try.

Please help me.

She frowned. It didn’t look quite right.

Merry wrote beside it. Help Miguel.