It was Christmas Eve, and I started my preparations. I had planned it out for months, and I wasn't going to blow it all now. Santa was coming to my house in a few hours, and I planned on meeting the big guy. My plan? The first step was to set out an extra large plate of cookies, and lots of milk, to buy myself time. The cookies would be extra crunchy, so that I could hear when he started eating. Second, I had to make sure I could stay awake during the wee hours of the night. I had to make sure that my parents were asleep, so I put a borrowed baby monitor from my friend, in their room. I pushed the couch out just far enough away from the wall, so that I could hide, without it being suspicious. I brough some toys to keep me busy so that I wouldn't fall asleep from boredom. Everything was set up, it was time to put my plan into action.

The clock struck one, and I knew that Santa would surely be on his way soon, if he wanted to make it around the world on time. Despite my resolve, I let out a long yawn, and my vision started to blur. My concentration came back when I heard a thump from the chimney area. Not wanting to disturb him before the gifts were put out, I layed low. A minute passed, though it seemed an eternity. Then the distinctive crunching sound came from the cookie area. I decided to strike. I jumped up and peered at the cookie-devourer. Soot covered from head-to-toe, plump, not fat, red woolen clothes, with white trim to match a full white beard, and a look of pure jolly on his face, it could only be one man. Santa looked back in forth, stunned for a moment, but not scared. He must have been through such situations before. He winked at me, and gave a soft, "ho ho ho", and called me over. He sat down in the big chair, and passed me a cookie. Never have I seen a kinder or happier face, and I doubt I ever will. He smiled and mentioned that I was probably going to be really tired tomorrow morning, perhaps too tired to open my gifts. I argued that I wouldn't, but he said I should run to bed anyways. He gave me a candy cane from his pocket, and wished me a Merry Christmas. Then Santa walked over to the chimney, put his finger to his nose, and flew up in one bound, just like in all the books. I went to bed, and never slept one wink that night. But Santa was wrong, I wasn't tired the next morning at all, and even if I was, it was all worth it in the end.