Doggedly searching for the crux of the biscuit.
A couple days before Christmas, my ex-wife emailed to ask whether I'd be signing any gifts to our eight-year-old son from Santa. I said that I wasn't, since he doesn't believe in Santa Claus any longer. Figured I'd just sign them all from Jesus this year. And think how hard it must be to get down a chimney with your hands stretched out and nailed to a cross.
It really is a miracle.
TrackBackThe chimneys were nothing. Try tying all those damned bows.
Posted by: JC at December 27, 2005 01:21 AMIf he doesn't believe in Santa any more, just give him a present in role of the father.
Posted by: Kate at December 27, 2005 04:53 AMyou have no idea how much this question bothered me as a child.
Posted by: fiend at December 27, 2005 09:35 PMWhoa whoa whoa there, brother 'o mine...I thought Jesus was that gay dude who crept into your bedroom at night and slipped a quarter under your pillow for each illusion you lost as a child.
Posted by: Mr. Sticky at December 28, 2005 10:23 PM