I remember believing in Santa Claus. It was so magical! Unless I was going to sit on his lap, then it was terrifying. So terrifying that, in fact, I never sat on Santa's lap.Even when Santa turned out to be Grandpa, I wouldn't go. But I sure believed in him and I sure as heck did my best to please him.
One year on Christmas Eve we were heading home from Grandma and Grandpa McHugh's house. We were driving along the reservoir when all of a sudden I saw it: Santa's sleigh. We were close to home by the time I saw him, complete with Rudolph's glowing nose! I remember yelling at dad, who was driving: "Hurry! He's over our house and if we're not in bed before he goes down the chimney he'll pass us by!!".
Well, okay, so I don't remember saying those exact words, but that was the jist of my incessant screaming.
We got home, we went to bed, and we woke up to presents.
I presume the children of the helicopter pilot that was flying over our house the night before got their presents, too.