May 24, 2018
When I was 6, I wrote a letter to Santa asking for a toy giraffe. Except that I didn’t write “toy” in the letter. So, my mom would mess with me, saying, “I don’t know, Baby! What if he brings a real giraffe, and not a toy giraffe?” Because six year-old me was thinking, “Those are some BIG poopies to clean up!” And I would always reply to my mom, with the childhood ingenuity of a Christmas movie, “Don’t worry! He knows, Mommy! He *knows*!” And Santa “knew.” That was one of my favorite Christmases. Moms are great.