Ah, Christmas Eve… A night of nervous anticipation for children everywhere: Santa’s on his way! Will he bring me what I want? Was I good enough? Is he here yet? Where is he??? Zoe and I just checked NORAD’s Santa tracking page to see where the old elf is (he’s just leaving Europe now), and she’s getting more and more anxious about his arrival.

As an adult, I’ve left the Santa-wonder behind, but there’s still that little thrill of anticipation for the gifts tomorrow. I’ve made it known to anyone who’ll sit still and listen long enough that what I really want for Christmas is a Road King, but I don’t really expect anyone to get me one. They’re $25,000 fer Chrissakes, and nobody I know has that kind of money to spend on Christmas presents — at least not for me. A Harley for the holidays is a nice pipe dream, but ain’t no way it’s gonna happen.

And yet… Hope springs eternal. I know there’ll be no Harley under the tree for me tomorrow — but there’s an insanely hopeful little part of me that hope-hope-hopes that maybe there will be anyway. Christmas is about joy and wonder and miracles, right? It could happen. Couldn’t it? Couldn’t it?

Merry Christmas, everyone! (And to you Godless heathens who don’t celebrate the birth of Our Lord — Merry Christmas anyway!)