It's getting closer.

Today in my teenage angst I watched a little boy trail after his mom in the library saying the following in several variations: "Mom, let's pretend its Christmas just for one present."

When I was little, the days leading up to Christmas killed me. I'd said previously that my parents never perpetuated Santa and this included putting the presents under the tree up to a week in advance. We would paw and wonder and occasionally my sister would trick me - the ever abiding youngest - into peaking into a gift back or lifting a corner of unsecured wrapping. The guilt that followed is probably one of the reasons I have an anxiety disorder. Older siblings are not tops.

Today being the 22nd, the presents are under the tree and my reaction, though still excited, is marginal in comparison. I simply can't think about the presents when sleep is so much closer. I'm done work now until tuesday and all I want is to sleep and have the liberty to sleep some more whenever I want. When you're young, life experience is also young. The excitement of Christmas morning is often too much to handle. As time goes on, as it has for me, many simpler things stand in the way of that anticipation. And that's okay.

There are people however - Mike Thompson - who give us something to laugh at and enjoy and watch amidst our sleepiness.