It seems that dear old Santa lived to the ripe old age of 164. This picture conjures up memories of the first time I found out Santa wasn't real. Being the youngest of three sisters has its definite advantages, for which I'm grateful. Like getting to play outside on the weekends making mud pies because I was "too young" to labor furiously, carting wheelbarrows full of rocks like my sisters did- in order to landscape the yard. Teachers always had a good first impression of me, only because my sisters had the reputation of being likable students. However, I vaguely remember being 8 or 9 when my older sisters kindly let me know that Santa wasn't real! I was devastated. I had hoped to one day catch him eating the sugar cookies we made or drinking that glass of milk we always left out. I remember trying to wait up for a glimpse of the rotund man dressed in red until my eyes became too heavy to keep open.

During one of my sessions last week, I met with three siblings. They are some of my favorite clients to meet with because it's evident that they care for one another. All three have big aspirations. The youngest boy wants to become a doctor at a free clinic. The middle sister wants to spend her life as a research scientist. The oldest would like to be a professional soccer player by day, veterinarian by night. We are talking about what Santa is going to bring them this year, when the 10 year old sister says, "I really want some new CDs, like the Eminem CD". She still believes in Santa. Without thinking I say, "Your parents are going to buy you an Eminem CD?! I don't think they should buy that for you, you're a little young to be listening to that" (Needless to say, I'm not a big fan of Eminem and somehow I've become matron-like). Her face displayed confusion when I quickly corrected myself, "I don't think Santa should bring that for you." Hopefully my slip of the tongue didn't cause too much Santa damage for her parents.