Recently, my husband mentioned — almost in passing, really — that this is likely the last year our daughter, Samantha, will believe in Santa.
I agreed without giving it much thought, and we went back to watching the Flyers kick some tail.
A few minutes later, though, it really hit me.
Her last year? It’s only been eight years! This stage of her childhood can’t be over so quickly, can it?
It then occurred to me that I was only a little older than Sam when I got my first training bra.
And that thought, lovely readers, made my brain seize up.