all i want for christmas

Home for the holidays means entire days spent in fleece zip-ups and pants. It means sleeping til noon, eating the best food on the planet, and snuggling with pets (and parents). It also means reminiscing about holidays past.
My mom asked us about our most memorable Christmas Eves and Christmases at the dinner table. It was nice listening to my parents' stories about their lives before I came along. A lot of Christmases blur together, simply because the traditions we follow render each one the same. But there are some years that I can remember vividly.What I can't remember, however, is when I stopped believing in Santa Claus. It seems that I was around 9 or 10 when I started writing letters addressed as follows: Dear 1/2 Santa, 1/2 parents. What prompted my doubt, I couldn't tell you. Perhaps the realization that a red-suited, gray-bearded, present-bearing magic old man didn't exist was so traumatic that I have blocked it out of my memory.Regardless, my parents continued to insist that "if you don't believe, you won't receive." And thus, I continued to write my Christmas wishes to "Santa," even through middle and maybe even high school. Seriously. Even now, I still put out milk and cookies (although now it's morphed into soy milk and vegan gingerbread). Why? I'm not really sure. I think I just love the magic of Christmas.