I remember one Christmas a really long time ago I cried because I got an American girl doll. I wish that things like that still mattered so much. The worst thing about being a child is that you’re in the most innocent, true, and important part of your life, without even realizing it until it’s all far gone. Things like Santa, the bunny rabbit, and the tooth fairy soon become just memories of a slightly better time. Yet It’s all so sad. Lying to your children, giving them the belief that there is some magical being that will buy you tons of presents, give you candy, or money for your lost teeth. Way to prepare us for reality when all along everything we’ve ever lived for gets ripped away in the end. Sometimes I think that I’m still more of a child than anything, holding onto my immature humor, fascination of simple, silly things, just because I’m afraid that’s the closest I’ll get to having any of that again, ever.