I was terrified of Santa Claus. Ter-ri-fied. I thought that the way he operated his "business" was HIGHLY suspicious, and I was very distrusting of his intentions. I didn't care that he brought presents. That did nothing to lessen the reality that he entered someone's house without introducing himself, and we were just supposed to let him in because he brought us stuff. Instead of hiding and waiting to catch a peek of Santa, I would bury myself beneath a mountain of blankets, booby trap my room, and shut my door.
I once drew him a map, with the wrong directions to keep him from finding us when we had Christmas with my dad's family in Dallas.
I can't begin to describe the terror I felt the day that I rearranged the letters in "Santa" and realized they spelled "Satan."
I was beyond relieved when my mother told me he was fictional. As in, my nemesis wasn't real, and FINALLY I CAN ENJOY THIS FREAKING HOLIDAY. I was in second grade.
Dear Mom and Dad, thank you for your patience.... Truth be told, I felt the same way about the Easter Bunny and the Toothfairy.
Torture du Jour:
Nicole
AMRAP
400m run
max pull ups (42, six rounds)
Tabata squats
1 comment:
Erika, this is hilarious. My sister (who is 6) was all excited about Santa last year until about 7 pm on Christmas Eve night, when she decided that she did not want some strange man entering our house. She was terrified to go to bed, it was cute and sad all at the same time.
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