It's an age-old tradition to visit Santa and tell him what you wish for at Christmas. When I was really small, of course, I don't remember screaming though my mother says I did. When I was a bit older, I remember being so excited and nervous and then chickening out when I got close up on line after waiting for 45 minutes. Mom wasn't pleased! When I finally got there, motivately only by threats that I wouldn't get anything if I didn't tell him what I wanted, I made it through but he smelled funny and no one I knew had a big hairy beard like that. I do remember the wonder of it and I thought he had a very nice voice. For the most part, I wasn't traumatized.....some kids aren't that lucky. How about you? (picture from www.humor-articles.com)
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