As if the world needed more proof of what a truly vile person I am and the questionable company that I keep, the one Christmas tradition that I am most looking forward to this year is a little something I like to call "Christmas letters." While I may decry the premature arrival of the commercial Christmas season, I will admit I've been anxiously awaiting this tradition for months.
In an annual event that has been occurring for several years now, sometime during the Christmas holiday, a group of my dear friends will gather together, possibly exchange gifts, perhaps munch on some sweet goodies, and get down to the real business of the day: we bust open the local newspapers and read elementary kids' letters to Santa. There is no other time in my life when I laugh more uproariously than while sitting with fellow sick-minded individuals and mocking the wide-eyed children's letters to the Great Bearded One. If nothing else, these letters reveal the sad state of our public education system (or what people in my county would more likely refer to as "book learnin' ").
But they don't stop with just letters. Oh, no. There are poems, individual letters in words spelled into other words (for example, SNOW: soft, neat, outdoors, white), and plain old itemized lists of "I Wants." The best gem we have ever uncovered occurred during last Christmas' festivities. In a letter that probably should have elicited some kind of intervention by a social worker, one little girl reminded Santa, "You're my best friend in my heart. YOU KNOW THAT, RIGHT?!"
(I know I'm a terrible person. The first step is acknowledgment...RIGHT?!) I'm starting to get even more excited just thinking about it...