I''m trying to remember when exactly it was that Christmas stopped feeling like Christmas to me.

Because I distinctly remember an age where I stayed up all night Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to come and ripped my parents out of bed Christmas morning to go open presents. I also clearly recall the more recent feelings of "Oh yeah. Tomorrow's Christmas," and the almost uncomfortable recognition that people have spent money on me to buy me gifts for a day that does not even celebrate me, that have come with age. What I don't remember is where exactly this transition happened, or why it happened.

I'm pretty sure this is a common phenomenon, because many of my friends have reciprocated my feelings in regards to all things Christmas. It's fun to sing Christmas carols and watch Christmas movies and decorate like there's no tomorrow, but there is something distinctly off about the actual day of Christmas.

Is it just that getting older means we are able to recognize the capitalistic nature of the holiday and how it feeds into consumerism? Is it the fact that by now, we are far past the stage of believing in Santa, thus resulting in the loss of "Christmas magic?" Maybe it's the fact that we are now at an age where we are expected to buy gifts for others, because we are working young adults who make money and have common decency.

None of those feel quite right, but there is no clear explanation as to what it is that makes Christmas feel less special as we get older. Perhaps we are just getting used to it. There is nothing novel about waking up one morning to presents under a tree. There is no element of surprise because all we really asked for this year was cash and new underwear. If someone bought me a Barbie Dream House would I be as excited now by the prospect of playing with it and the endless possibilities for imagination. Doubtful.

If you have theories on why Christmas loses its magic as you get older, reach out to me. I will be proposing a hypothesis for research funding in the Fall of 2018. This critical investigation may very well mend the threadbare fabric of society and reintroduce joy to our lives. Until then, marvel at how easy it is to make children happy.

They are amazed by the idea of someone breaking into their home and eating their cookies. A minor change in their parent's handwriting is enough to delude them. One year my brother got so excited by snow boots that he threw them in the air with such vigor that the flew back and knocked an ornament of the Christmas tree.

Why can't I get that excited about a pair of boots?