It’s 2:15AM Christmas morning and I can’t sleep. Maybe part of me is waiting for that mythical Santa to slide down the chimney and restore my belief in the impossible. Maybe I’m just anticipating the moment when my kids wake up and seeing the excitement and bewilderment on their faces as they notice that the cookies and milk left for Santa have been eaten and the carrot left for Rudolf has a big bite out of it. My son was very concerned earlier in the night when he noticed that the fire was still going in the fireplace. “We need to put the fire out so that Santa doesn’t get burned” he told me. “I think Santa has a fireproof suit” I told him. The look on his face told me he wasn’t buying it.
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