I'm a little sad that I don't remember believing in Santa. It was never a topic of discussion in grade school. I don't remember classmates arguing whether Santa was real or not. Maybe it happened, I just don't remember it. I remember asking Santa for presents when I was little. I remember Mom told us to put a list of three things we wanted in our stocking and he would bring them to us. But I don't remember that feeling of believing in Santa and then not believing.
I guess I'm glad I didn't have a traumatic "What?! Santa isn't real?" moment. In fact, even when I knew my parents were the ones that bought my presents I still chose to believe in Santa and I still called "it" Santa. I guess I just like to believe in things.
Recently I took little movies of my nieces. I told them I'd send these video messages to Santa. So Santa, I hope you have land of lauralot on your Google Reader.
I took video of Sadie first. It wasn't until I talked to Piper who speaks more clearly that Sadie also wants a toy puppy and not a "striped" puppy. Makes more sense.
Lately I've heard a lot of podcasts with people talking about Christmas disappointments and when they didn't get what they asked for. I don't remember ever not getting what I asked for. I must have been a pretty practical kid. Or I was a very nice girl.