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Dear Santa, Every year at this time I send you a list of what I want for Christmas. And every year you callously ignore it and bring me practical things I don't want at all. What's the deal?! Are you insane? Have you gone senile?? Can't you read?? Or are you just a vindictive, twisted elf, bent on destroying kids' dreams?!?! You might want to sleep on this one. I know, but it felt good to write it. Calvin writes Santa a letter. He writes Santa ignores his list every year and brings practical things he doesn't want. He asks if Santa is insane, gone senile, or can't read. He asks if he's a vindictive elf destroying little kids' dreams. Hobbes reads the letter and suggests sleeping on it. Calvin knows, but he says he felt good writing it.