Pie and Santa Claus

I made a pumpkin pie today.

like this. but without the tiny arms.

No real reason. I just happened to be at the grocery store earlier today, and I saw the cans of pumpkin sitting on the shelf, which is when I thought to myself: Hmm. You know, I didn't eat any pumpkin pie over Thanksgiving, which is really what Thanksgiving is for... And I enjoy baking... And pie is delicious. I wonder if we have any eggs. Eggs are strange, aren't they? Weird little embryonic shells. Freakish. Oh hey, where did Kelsey and Brett go? I had a dream I was lost in a grocery store last night. Huh. Just remembered that. Wonder if that has any symbolism...

like this. it was terrifying.

And so forth and so on. Even my brain rambles to itself. It's a little pathetic, to be honest.

I thought that I would continue to share my Christmas experiences with y'all, but then I heard a funny story, and have decided to share that instead.

Though I am now an 18 year old sophomore in college, I really can't help but cling to many of my childhood traditions, especially around the holidays. I'm quite confident that my sister and I will be doing our Christmas ritual until we're little old ladies. I am also quite confident that Santa Claus is a real person, and very much enjoys hanging out at the North Pole with a bunch of tiny hatted people and extra-furry deer. Though I bet he'd prefer spiced rum instead of milk.

Or Jack Daniels

However, today my roommate told me that when he was a little kid, and his parents first told him about this jolly tubby man dressed in red who came down the chimney to give him glorious free presents to open joyfully on Christmas morn, his immediate reaction was not delight and excitement, but abject terror.

this is not how I picture good ol' Kris Kringle, but apparently is how my roommate saw him. maybe he had a bad experience with one or something

Yeah, so when his parents told him about how Jolly Old Saint Nick would be appearing on Christmas Eve to put presents under his tree and put candy in his stocking, he burst into tears, and wouldn't stop shaking and whimpering. So finally his parents told him Santa didn't actually exist, and wouldn't be coming by to give him anything.

probably his Christmas tree looked like this, too

And that's why my childhood was better than his.