You were Ghost’s kid, around 5 years old and you still believed in Santa. Christmas was your favourite time of the year, besides your birthday, and you loved everything about it.

Since you were able to walk, you and your dad would place shortbread, milk and carrots on the coffee table for Santa and his reindeers. But that tradition was short lived.

“Daddy, where does Santa live?” You asked, in your squeaky, high-pitched voice.

“Santa isn’t real, sorry kiddo.” Your father replied, looking up and noticing the shocked look on your little face.