Tuesday, December 25, 2001


I got a late start on the day and drove to Beaumont, where I had Christmas dinner with mom and Grandma. Afterwards we watched TV while I wrapped Sheridan’s Christmas presents. The History channel had one delight after another: the Loch Ness Monster, Pompeii, and something else I’ve forgotten.

My ex made me angry with a story she related: Sheridan asked about the date yesterday, and since it was Christmas Eve she asked her grandparents to help her put out milk and cookies for Santa. They did. In the morning grandma threw away the milk and cookies but no presents from Santa came. Sheridan was devastated. She believed Santa had come and eaten the cookies but l left her no presents. My ex also took it upon herself to explain to Sheridan that there was no Santa. In part because she believed she was lying to Sheridan and in part because she’s too dense to come up with answers to Sheridan’s questions, like how does Santa get into a house with no chimney? I was furious. I already had set aside some Santa presents for Sheridan and knew how much she looked forward to it. Santa makes Christmas magical for kids. Know Santa, know magic. No Santa, no magic. Sheridan seemed okay by the time I picked her up that evening, but I still resolved to give her at least one more visit from Santa.


At 10:04 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow. I never knew that. We're Muslim and we plan to do Santa for the Bar-oo-a. How could you not?! It's like giving out those orange pseudo-marshmellow peanuts for halloween. No official halloween markings on them or anything.
I hate that story.


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