Santa Claus must hate me. Where am I supposed to put all this stuff? I don't remember getting everything I asked for at Christmas time, and yet these two fat faces made out like bandits! Video games, toy cars and princess dolls, clothes, books, movies, and a big middle finger just for me from Santa. I swear I am going to need a storage unit for all this.
It all started out nice enough with new pajamas and a bath before bedtime on Christmas Eve.
I really didn't think anything of it when we went to see the big guy the week before.
But whatever went on in this conversation must have changed everything.
I know it wasn't Reggie's fault. He refused to even sit on Santa's lap.
And so as I started handing out presents and keeping track of what they were getting, I relaized the fix was in. Presents and presents and presents.
So many I could no longer keep up.
Then as I looked into their little eyes and saw their sweet smiles, it hit me.
I have the greatest kids in the world.
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