I don't really know when you figured it out - I kind of had me suspicions last year and the year before that you were asking some pretty prying questions which were certainly leading you in the right direction - I figure that the 11 months of the year that aren't Christmas gave the truth some respite.
But not this time. You know. I know you know. You probably don't know I know. I'm not even sure to what degree you know that you know. But you know.
Today we were grocery shopping nad you asked me about Santa and Coca-cola, so I started to tell you the story of how while we all have an idea of what Santa looks like, no one has ever seen him to confirm (you have long since found out that the guys at the mall are 'helpers') and that the old versions of Father Christmas were not the red and white colours of Coca-cola, but that they had made up their own version and that it has become the popular one.
But before I could get up a good head of narrative steam, you stopped me.
"Wait wait! Is this the heartbreaking story about the truth about Santa?"
"Uhm... No..." And I pressed on, but of course I couldn't help myself and had to ask what you had meant by that.
"Well some kids know there isn't any Santa and I just don't want to hear about it."
Wow. Okay. Deal. We will keep on pretending for as long as you like.
But I'm going to cry a bit tonight, okay?
Love, Pop.
"Well some kids know there isn't any Santa and I just don't want to hear about it."
Wow. Okay. Deal. We will keep on pretending for as long as you like.
But I'm going to cry a bit tonight, okay?
Love, Pop.
