Little rascally fellow severed my heart tonight. Reading Calvin and Hobbes. Its my turn, a section on Santa Claus. Seems innocuous. Snow jokes. Asking for ridiculousness from Santa jokes. Christmas trees in the garage jokes. Bad daddy on Christmas jokes. Waiting for Santa jokes. Oh no, I am processing too slowly again. The parents dragging out the ... Shit... I attempt default maneuver, avoidism. Buzz, buzz....berripp. Static. Static. Oh, is that Foxy Mittens without her Elizabethan Collar!...Just a little skiparoo, pickaroo....NoooOOOOpe. nope. NoPE. nope NOpe!!...Why is he so freakin old already? Acting like he is the adult child comforting me in my convalescent home apartment with chocolates and teddy bears. His counselor smile and perfect eye contact , "Mommy, don't worry, I know". Its, -OK-. Don't worry. I won't tell Finn." Nervous laugh by me. Nervous laugh, big doe eyes back on me. "What do you mean? I can't help the awkward smile. "I saw the candy on that shelf," he points. "If the Easter bunny's not real then Santa is not real."Awg..
Why did I get lazy this time?!? Tired. Numb. And, I let it go. Dang it. Why the FUZZ does he have to make such connections!! Every person knows that Santa is way more
REAL than the Easter bunny!! SHEEE--Yit! Toys we are talking about...not pathetic peeps and jelly beans in plastic green grass. Can't we PLEASE just keep Santa out of this for now??
