Tuesday, October 12, 2004


I still remember the moment I realized there was no Santa Clause. It was Christmas Eve, 1985. I had stayed up all night waiting for ole’ Saint Nicholas, but, of course, he never came. I was crushed.

A few moments later, my children burst into the living room looking for their presents. Naturally, they thought I had stolen the presents and began kicking me and hurling obscenities. Eventually the kicking subsided and, piled up in the middle of the floor, we all shared a little cry. In the end, isn’t that what Christmas is all about? (In some cultures?)

1 comment:

Jack said...

Vali, why are you refuting the existence of the lighthearted holiday romp The Santa Clause?

PS: Ya burnt.