I'm not sure why I don't care too much for Christmas. I love Jesus and I love the lights and how beautiful everything becomes during this time of year.

It's not that I'm not thankful for all I've been given, nor am I a Scrooge, really, I'm not. I think my problem stems from being a kid and remembering when I was five years old I wrote Santa a letter and I had asked him for Snoopy everything. I loved the Peanuts Cartoon and Snoopy was my absolute favorite.

I was so excited for Santa to come. I left him cookies and milk. I even left some carrots out for Santa's reindeer, but something happened.

Santa's elves got their lists mixed up and my name ended up on the wrong gifts.

No Snoopy anywhere. Everything I got was for an adult, but the worst of it was that I ended up with oil for the car and gadgets to change my own oil. I was FIVE.

I literally dropped to the floor crying. It was awful. I think receiving a lump of coal would have been better. Seriously. At least I would have understood why I got coal.

My parents, of course, felt awful about what had happened. Once I calmed down we wrote Santa a letter asking him what happened.

After a couple of days went by I eventually received the best Snoopy ever, but truthfully I think that Christmas messed me up. I don't know I'm guessing that might be my issue with Christmas to this day.

Sad but true.