River ,'Objects In Space'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
We had both - like someone said up-thread, wrapped ones were from people, unwrapped from Santa.
I don't remember if I still believed at this time or not, but I do remember as a young'un feeling triumphant and oh-so-clever when I recognized my dad's handwriting on the "To [Dad], Love Santa" tag on some big-ticket item.
I have no magic in my heart, this is a known fact. Maybe this is why I keep ending up working on children's shows.
The universe is cramming magic and childlike wonder down your throat?
"Eat the magic, fucker! Open your eyes wide to the miracle, you son of a bitch!"
No, I just think it is fitting in some twisted way that someone with no magic in his heart is the one creating the magical things for kids.
Nebber mind
We had both - like someone said up-thread, wrapped ones were from people, unwrapped from Santa.
This is the way it is in my family. Stockings are Santa's job too. Poor Santa gets a bad rep since he is as lame with the present giving as mom sometimes. Santa presents also tend to be the hard to wrap items.
Aimee, insent with a plea!
My mother puts presents under the tree from herself, Santa, the pets, and whomever else she can think of. It's kinda hilarious. Also, Santa is always careful to leave a present for the pets.
It's weird - this will be the first Christmas we've spent together in... 11 years? Something like that.
I don't remember when I stopped believing in Santa, but I don't think it was all that traumatic.
Santa presents also tend to be the hard to wrap items.
Yeppers.
So, do most people get some from Santa, some from Mom, some from Dad?
Stockings are Santa's job too. Poor Santa gets a bad rep since he is as lame with the present giving as mom sometimes. Santa presents also tend to be the hard to wrap items.
Totally.
Oh lord, now I'm remembering, when my mom was sick and my sister and I went "OMG, stockings!" at like 10 p.m. on Christmas eve - those were some ghetto stockings, I'll tell you what. We filled them up with all kinds of shit we had lying around, including Diet Cokes straight out of the fridge. Laughed our asses off, though.