I shoulda remembered Wawa with the kickass wraps

When should I tell Sean that Santa died hundreds of years ago? This whole Santa business is a double-edged sword anyhow. There is the fun of playing, of course, and the whole helping keep magic alive for your children thing. But trying to substitute when I can't always get what my kids want makes me feel an extreme amount of guilt. I feel like an idiot to feel the guilt I do. Christmas just depresses me. The only parts I like about it at all are the getting together part, and the kids being happy part. We drove around yesterday evening and ended up downtown, or close enough anyway. It was a part of Richmond that I didn't know. Cathy wanted to eat out instead of making a big dinner and mess here. It was great. We had our choice of open 7-11's with their gourmet hot dogs and such, and some Chinese restaurants. We weren't armed with information before we left home. The internet didn't know what was open Christmas Day or not. So we drove. The kids got crankier and the cut downs got crasser, like Skylar told Sebastian he was a piece of toilet paper with diarrhea on it, and Sean told Skylar she was heck in the form of a person, and Sage just yelled no, especially when Sebastian called her a sassy pants. I stopped at a 7-11 to play sheriff. It's not as though I had to look hard to find a 7-11, I think they bred like rabbits sometime in the early eighties. But I picked the right one in my opinion. My kids got faces stuffed with hot dogs and nachos dripping chili and ketchup and cheese everywhere. And I had noticed that across the street there was a Mediterranean market, so I got a gyro and falafel and baklava for everyone. It was a good Christmas dinner. And an excellent Christmas with an unparalleled family, extended or otherwise.