Friday, December 12, 2008

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.

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