Ok - so it was me and I wasn't dreaming abour sugar plums because I didn't know what they were. And it wasn't really all that long ago - just 12 years ago or so...
I had been in bed for five hours (maybe more or less) and it was now midnight. My parents came in and woke me up. How RUDE! We all know that Santa doesn't come if little children aren't asleep!
"Lyssa," they said. "Santa is here - He wants to see you."
I groaned in protest and mumbled. "I don't care" I then rolled over to face away from them and tried to sleep.
"But honey, he said he really wants to see you and your sister."
I mumbled again. "Tell him I said hi." I pulled the blanket over my head.
They ended up getting me out of bed. My daddy carried me to the living room where Santa himself was sitting in my mom's rocking chair. He laughed with his normal "HO, HO, HO!" and then said something I don't remember. My sister and I somehow ended up on his lap. The next thing you know is that our next door neighbor comes over with a shot gun in her hand - threatening to kill Santa. My parents told her not to kill him because he had a lot of children to visit that night. And Santa was protesting as well. He stood up and backed away.
Our neighbor lady told Bee and I to go to our rooms so we wouldn't see what she was gonna do.
I remember she put her gun down and let Santa go. That's all I remember of that night. Let's just say I believed in Santa for a while - I think I was 10 when I stopped believing.
And now I know (at least I think I'm sure) that "Santa" was actually my neighbor's husband...
I have some weird stories.
Oh Lys!! You have such a way with words...you make me laugh:)
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