I kept my hopes up all through Christmas Eve. I didn’t give up when I woke up and there wasn’t a new car in the driveway. I kept the faith and KNEW that Santa would be driving up in my black IS 350 Lexus convertible at any time.

I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And slowly my spirits were dashed against those Christmas rocks of reality. I hadn’t been that depressed since General Mills stopped making Sprinkle Spangles breakfast cereal.

(“Spangled every angle with sprinkles!”)

So I stayed in bed all day Monday trying to figure out what I had done, what sin I had committed, that would keep Santa from giving me my Lexus. In no particular order, I:

• Threw a fit when I lost at Rack-O. Also, tennis, Clue, Chutes and Ladders, and Memory. (My 3-year-old granddaughter cheats.)
• Wore white after Labor Day.
• Didn’t return my overdue library book until I finished it.
• Told my grandkids the SpongeBob SquarePants channel was broken.

(WAAAYYY too much intensity. Tone it down, Bob.)

• Told my grandkids my TV was broken.
• Didn’t give $1 to the homeless guy by the freeway
• Ate all the cookie dough and blamed the dog
• Stayed on the elliptical longer than my alloted 35 minutes. (How can I lose weight in 35 minutes?!?)
• Watched YouTube videos about kittens instead of working.

I didn’t think these sins were particularly nasty–especially when there were LOTS of things I WANTED to do–but didn’t. But I guess they added up to one big empty driveway. Starting today, or maybe next week, I’ll be good.