Santa Who?

Mommy, Auntie Jenn and Auntie Pua took me, Katie and Buddha to the mall to see this person they call Santa Claus. Let me break this dude down: Fat jolly male. White hair. White beard. Chubby cheeks. Wore a red and white outfit. Comes around once a year. And his breath smells of bourbon.

Anyways, I gathered that this was the dude who was gonna give me gifts at Christmas, but he also told me that I had to be good in order to be on that list. Hey, as long as you don’t ask my diapers, you’ll find that I’m a good kid, Santa.

He asked me what I wished for. I thought about that. Deeply. Intensely. Mommy read my expression as that I was just chillin’ out, but I was actually in heavy thought. I mean, here’s my one chance to get anything I want, and I’m put on the spot as everyone takes my picture. Now that’s pressure. You try to come up with something good in that situation.

But I did.

And this Santa guy, well, he’s full of magic because, although I can’t speak, he still listened to my wish – and he actually brought it early. Because later that night, it arrived: he flew my Daddy here from San Francisco.

Now that’s a Christmas miracle.