Scared of Santa

As a child, I loved the holidays. It was always full of wonder and fun. Christmas growing up was in Denver Colorado. Which meant a white Christmas with snow. I remember when I had my first Christmas in Los Angeles. It was a surreal experience. It didn't feel like the Christmas' that I was accustomed to. I missed the smell of Christmas. The smell of fresh snow. It's a distinctive smell that wraps you up in the holidays.

Regardless, no matter where I celebrated Christmas. One thing ran true, my fear of Santa. It was a love/hate relationship. I loved that he brought me presents. I hated that he had to break into my house to do so. I was a weird child, I don't know why I was so scared of him. Maybe because he was a stranger.  That's the reason I couldn't sleep on Christmas Eve. Not just because of the presents. But also because Santa, the jolly terrifying man, was coming. I  didn't want any conversations or Christmas adventures. Just leave the presents and go, Santa.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!