It’s that time of the year! The only time of year that Mariah Carey is on the radio, the only time where it is socially acceptable to drink eggnog, and the only time I ever buy gifts for people. Thank baby Jesus that it’s finally Christmas time.
The countdown for the big fat man to come break into our houses begins now.
If only that were still believable.
I miss the days when I would be in my room making pages and pages of ideas for gifts I want. One thing I do not miss is being constantly disappointed when my cookies were never eaten, the milk was never drank, and I did not have a pony under my tree.
I can remember all the crazy things I would tell myself to convince myself that Santa was real. It got to the point where my mom just did not know to break it to me and I would be the one trying to convince her that he is indeed real and she had no idea what she was talking about. One morning, I found a bell on my kitchen counter that I knew I had brought home from school. I thought it would be brilliant to go put that bell on my porch and wake my mom up to go tell her that Santa came. She had to break my heart again and try to convince me that he was not real , but I was in full denial.
The next year, I was convinced that Santa only visited my house. I thought this because on an early Christmas Eve morning, I had seen a whole pack of deer in my yard. I told my mom that Santa had to be out there hurt somewhere because the reindeer are stuck in our yard with nowhere to go. That was the year I stopped believing.
I would do anything to go back to the days where imagination was endless and magic was real. Those were the actual good days.
So instead of believing in all the magic, we are stuck with listening to Mariah Carey for the whole winter season.