As most families do, we had our own little Christmas traditions - putting out cookies and milk for Santa and carrots for the reindeer, and trying our hardest to stay up long enough in the living room to catch a glimpse of the one who always hooked us up with the best presents. This particular year, I was about seven, and when the morning finally came and we were rooting through all the gifts, I opened the first one. A Mr. Potato Head.... just what I wanted!! I showed off my
new toy and moved on to the next gift. Another Mr. Potato Head. And, upon further examination, it was the exact same one. Both from Santa. Hmm. I looked at the tag from the first one, and noticed a strong resemblance of Santa's handwriting to my dad's handwriting. The second tag mysteriously had a strong resemblance to my mom's handwriting. I must have stared at those tags for a couple minutes before I figured it out (meanwhile, I'm sure my parents were giving each other the same "Now look what you've done!" look...). I asked my older sister later on that day, and she confirmed my fear was reality - no Santa, just tricky parents. My mission now is to keep Santa alive in the minds of my seven nieces and nephews for as long as I can!
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