When I was a kid I was always extremely nervous and excited to go see Santa Claus at the mall where he lived.
I actually studied to prepare for meeting Santa every year. The prize for studying for a spelling test was a whopping “A” hastily scribbled at the top of your paper; studying your Christmas list for a perfect and calculated recitation to Santa Claus, however, would surely result in pure, hard, cold, tangible STUFF.
I wasn’t gonna be like that stupid kid on “A Christmas Story” who finally gets to see Santa and COMPLETELY FORGETS what he wants for Christmas. Never mind that Santa had been ignoring my request for a puppy for as long as I’d been alive, the perfect recitation of my Christmas list–always with “world peace” tacked on the end for brownie points–in the presence of Mr. Claus was of paramount importance and occupied my small but scheming brain for months leading up to Christmas each year.
But at some point (it was before high school, I swear) my mother convinced me to stop burdening Santa’s schedule (and lap) with my demands, and I eventually even stopped sending him my list.
Now before you tear up from either sentiment or boredom or both, there is a point to this story, and that point is this: Santa has gone digital.
In fact, he reads this very blog. (Hi, Santa!)
And I know this because look at what I got for Christmas:
1. Rat poison
3. A veritable smorgasbord of rib-soothing, heat-padding, neck-massaging goods
5. Fiber bars (oh. wait. That’s the kind of thing you DON’T write about on your public blog)
Knowing what I do now, next year I’m planning on strategically blogging about camera lenses, Paris, and Barnes and Noble gift certificates during the pre-Christmas weeks.