Do you remember when you were a little kid? Santa was the fat man who came down the chimney and left you all sorts of goodies under tree and filled your stockings with sweet delight.. Or in my case, nail polishes and make up. My mom always did an awesome job at the stocking, I looked forward to my stocking the most, she put some of the coolest stuff in there.. CD’s, make up, nailpolish, candy, magazines, keychains..and other miscellaneous gadgets.
I however, am not that organized. My kids are going to have an amazing christmas this year, because this is the first time in a very long time we’ve had the cash to give them an awesome christmas. I am grateful for that. I cant wait to videotape my kids on christmas and only wish that my son was old enough to have that wonder in his eyes when seeing presents for the first time. My daughter and my husband will have to ‘help’ my son unwrap his stuff, he’s only four months old. 😉
But back to my original point – there is a sort of magic, a sort of fuzziness that comes with believing in Santa. The anticipation of not being able to sleep the night before…hoping you were good enough to get what you had been dreaming of… and a part of me misses that ‘magic’ so much. I wish, as an adult, there was still something magical, still something to fill you with the same sort of anticipation and excitement.
I miss that.
But not as much as I enjoy getting drunk, eating Santa’s cookies, making mudslides out of his milk and wrapping his presents on XXXMas eve!!
Merry Christmas to all. 😉