Of all the things I have to do by myself …
Of all the chores, all the hardships, all house-full-of-sick-kids, I’ve endured on my own …
Playing Santa by myself sucks the most.
He’s supposed to be here to make me wait just a bit longer before hauling out the gifts.
He’s supposed to be here to shake his head and tell me I’m crazy while I arrange the presents just so.
He’s supposed to be here to help me fill stockings and to make me wait in the family room while he fills mine with a dozen small gifts that make smile and laugh every year.
He’s supposed to be here to drink the milk.
He’s supposed to be here for the first true Merry Christmas at midnight.
He’s supposed to be here.
I am so in love with my sailor, and so proud of what he does. He’s my hero. I know what he does matters, and I know how important his job is.
Playing Santa alone just sucks … when he’s supposed to be here.