I hate Christmas time. It makes you miss all those times when you were a little kid, and rushed down to the tree finding everything your little heart could disire. Nowadays you rush down to your tree and your parents are lying on the couch hung over from all that eggnog and red wine, while they insist they were waiting for Santa, to tell him that they already had the gifts for you and that he need not worry for your poor little heart. They pull out packages from their pockets and give them to you with a smile and a "Merry Christmas.". It would of course be selfish to cry and whine about why Santa didn't come. So you take the gift, smile, and give your parents Advil.