Dear Santa . . .

Maybe next year we can have a long conversation about how great I've been all year, those toys that I'm just dying to get my little hands on, and just where exactly the North Pole is.

But for now, I think I'll just cling to my mom and dad and stare at my cookie trying to ignore the fact that you're right next to me and scaring me to death. Maybe next year, I'll get excited about your white beard, elves, and reindeer.

Yes, maybe next year.

Love, Jackson