I hope Santa gets here soon. I have the French Press ready. The cookies are out at the appointed spot. I've moved the car a bit to make room for the sleigh's landing. And I've rehearsed the question Skylar requested that I ask him so many times that it's burned into my brain: "How fast do reindeer fly?" I wish I knew. Given my knowledge of geography, though, I suspect that there is magic involved. Perhaps the festive flight crew apparates from one location to the next. I'll have to listen for the sound of a sharp crack in the night.