I know I’m weird, okay?
I mean, it’s not your everyday person that has Clausetrophobia, or whatever, right?
What, there’s a lot of people who’re afraid of tight spaces?
Huh?
Who said I was afraid of that?
Oh, so that’s why none gets it when I say I’m Clausetrophobic…
Actually, I’m afraid of Santa Clause.
Yeah.
I was 4, okay? My parents were all hyped up and stuff, and so was I.
Then, when we came downstairs, I didn’t even notice the presents, because my bird was dead.
“Santa murdered Petey, Momma!”
“What? No, honey, he wouln’t do that!”
The next year my turtle (also named Petey) died at Christmas.
When I was 12, my mom died of Cancer. That’s right, on Christmas morning.
So, I figure, Santa is either a serial killer, or I have really bad karma.