August is Give Me Presents Month

I once had a photo of myself ignoring Santa. There he was, looming behind me in his suffocating, beardy grandeur while I was peeling my presents with my back turned to him. “Who cares about you, old man,” my body language said. These days, however, I see things a little differently. Where is that fat monster with all my presents now? I don’t mind that it is August. In fact, I prefer it. I prefer presents in August. August, with the presents. Hello, is this thing on?