Such A Thing

Dear Santa,
It has been a long time since I have written, but I noticed the other night that my son had started his letter to you, and it seemed like now might be the right time. Even though there are still plenty of workshop or shopping days left until the big day, I think my little boy may be on to something. First of all, he's not that little anymore. He has been touring high schools to prepare for his freshman year, and he has more than a passing interest in girls these days.
Still, he continues to make the time to sit down and compose a rather detailed list of things he wants, as well as an equally comprehensive accounting of his behavior over the past year. He knows that you know who has been naughty and who has been nice, but he still feels compelled to share it with you. Maybe this is because we lack a certain amount of organized religion in our home. We don't have a ritual confession on a regular basis, so maybe this is the best way to get that kind of catharsis. He could be praying to Yaweh or Buddha or the Flying Spaghetti Monster, but he picked you.
Flattered? I imagine you probably don't have the time, but I hope in those quiet days after the twenty-fifth of December, you can take time to reflect on your elevated status, at least around our house. It is a beautiful thing that a teenager feels the trust and faith in anything like my son feels for you. That's a gift. Better than a plate of cookies and a cup of egg nog. I don't know if it makes you more inclined to fill his list or put a little extra something in his stocking. It know it works for me.
And speaking of me, I don't have much of a list myself this year. I suppose all I really want is one more year of letters to Santa Claus.
Yours Truly,
Dad