Why I’ve Given Up Playing Santa
When the first of my close friends had a baby, I was in love. I still refer to this looming 15-year-old as my first child. It was so much fun having a little one in our circle, and when Christmas rolled around, I decided to write him a letter from Santa Claus.
I bought special stationery with St. Nick?s picture printed on the top, found red and green pens, and wrote in a fun and blocky scrawl. The return address always read: S. Claus, North Pole, H0H 0H0.
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How my Christmas tradition grew
Then another friend had a baby, and then another, and before I knew it, I was writing 22 letters from Santa to all the kids in my life. I?d watch a favourite Christmas movie or two while I wrote. I quickly learned that wine and Santa-writing don?t mix: I?d get to the last sentence of a long handwritten letter only to make a mistake and have to start over.
The process was intense: 22 letters and 22 envelopes, more than $30 in stamps, a writing bump on my middle finger where the pen rested (something I hadn?t had since my university days), and a sore neck.
Some years I got extra creative, and in addition to the letter, I included other surprises. One year, before I had a child of my own (and apparently, had way too much time on my hands) I wrote accompanying letters from elves in teeny, tiny print. Another time, I sent bags of reindeer food (dry oats mixed with glitter)Â with each Santa letter.
I loved the process?for a while. I?d ask my friends what achievements to include in thei...
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