Christmas
Christmas
As I slowly awaken from a deep sleep, cool air hits my squinting eyes and I have the feeling that this is not a normal day. I close my eyes again and ponder for less than a spilt second then realize that SANTA CAME LAST NIGHT!!! I throw back the covers, ignoring the cold that would have kept me in bed for hours later on a normal day, and run to the Christmas tree. …
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…time. The lists that I now make are not carelessly scribbled out in crayon and addressed to the almighty Santa, but consist of the names of people I need to buy for, what I hope they will like, and about how much money they will have spent on them. None of this is nearly as fun as being seven years old on Christmas day and getting nearly everything I could think of to ask for.
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