:: The Bitch Girls ::
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:: Tuesday, December 24, 2002 ::
How Does Santa Fit In The Chimney? Reading this post at Right Thinking, I was reminded of the year that I began to question the existence of Santa. I'm not sure how old I was, but I want to say I was about 7 or so. Bitchy Mom put me to bed one Christmas Eve, and suddenly it hit me. There was no Santa. Bitchy Mom was responsible for all the gifts. I marched my little blonde self down the stairs and made the announcement to the entire family. I promptly "changed my mind" when they told me that Santa doesn't come to houses when no one believes in him. I didn't really change my mind, but I was willing to lie to get those gifts. Santa's Barbie selections were never one to miss out on.
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:: Bitter 9:16 PM [+] ::
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