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Black Christmas


Maybe it's because I'm not a parent. Maybe because I'm a pisces living in a fantasy world. Maybe because I'm not materialistic. Maybe idk the maybe but I don't get stressed or depressed or broke over trying to provide the perfect Christmas. I recall making gingerbread houses with my mom, sister, cousins, and a few friends. Baking cookies for Santa... and ourselves lol. Dressing my doll baby, that I got the Christmas I turned 6 (& still have), in my bro's christening outfit and putting her under the tree. Waking up in the morning to so many gifts. Honestly I only remember asking for a specific gift, not from Santa but from my dad, Tickle Me Elmo when I was 9. I didn't get it but Santa, my mom, and my aunts and uncles got me so many gifts I still had an enjoyable holiday. [My dad lived in Georgia, I lived in Indiana I don't know how him and mom went about finances] Anyways, I don't grasp the concept of buying a bunch of video games or adult electronics for freakin kindergartens!!! Why are y'all not buying barbies, hot wheels, legos, v-tech, leapfrog, and fisher-price items for children under the age of 10/11??? Seriously??? Also in my opinion anything Apple makes is not A NECESSITY for pre-teens or younger. In the words of Kevin Hart, y'all need to "live in your financial lane." Who cares what celebrities and people, who make in 5 minutes while sleeping what you make in 5 years, get their kids?

Then after you try to live like celebrities, you go online and bitch about how you think it is ridiculous the whole concept & idea of Santa Claus. You want your kids to know how hard you worked to give them the most materialistic Christmas ever, that you will have to work harder next year to top. Now I can understand not wanting to lie to our children. But let's be all the way flat-out honest about everything. The tooth fairy, where babies come from, sex, and death. You know what, y'all crazy. I rather live in my fairy-tale world where Santa Claus, unicorns, and toys come alive and the holidays are enjoyed.
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