Hey, Santa, how ‘bout you stop bringing my kids better gifts than me?
*** SPOILER ALERT – if you truly believe in Santa Claus read no further!!! ***
Since having our children, my wife and I do the same ridiculous thing to ourselves every Christmas. We let Santa the North Pole big man ‘bring’ our kids all the amazing gifts we bought for them that year. The exact toys they wanted, the expensive talking playthings with the flashing lights and the pull-able knobs, the stockings full of chocolate and gag gifts and handfuls of loose quarters. We stack all this gold into two piles by the tree and when they wake up Christmas morning, our children can’t believe that their white-bearded hero came through for them once again.
And then they open our gifts.
Socks and underwear, AA batteries and rubber boots, every year my wife and I end up…
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