Since I have to go to see a dude who supposedly owns 9 magic, flying reindeer and a giant sleigh, I will unleash the worst cry if he even tries to touch me. We get in the car, drive, and arrive to see what some people call the jolliest man alive. When my dad went to go put me on his lap, I cried before even touching “the big red hairy guy.” The first words that the so called Santa said to me were, “Merry Christmas!” My mom took a picture of me when I was crying, then I screamed so loud that people in the neighboring building could hear me. I didn’t know what Christmas then and I still don’t know now. That’s why I will never enjoy seeing magic, flying reindeer having person.
I like your post because I think your story was very creative. I remember when I would get scared of Santa. Did you used to be scared of Santa?
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Emma