"Remind me, whose idea was that?"

"Yours."

"Bloody hell."

Simon sighed heavily, sitting down on the sofa. His body was already starting to sweat like hell after only half an hour of being in a Santa Claus costume. He was wearing everything – red pants, boots with fake snow (in fact, it was powdered sugar) on it, a hat, and even a beard made of cheap synthetic hair.

And, most interestingly, it really was his idea. Simon wanted to wear a costume for the sake of your six children (although the youngest were crying in terror when they saw him), who were looking forward to Santa's arrival on Christmas. The two of you laid out the presents under the tree, and Simon sat down on the couch, almost exhausted.

"It's hot as hell in that one." He said, leaning his head back against the back of the couch.

"Yeah? Hmm, then let me reward you a little." You said playfully.

Still in your Christmas pajamas, you walked around the couch and bent down to kiss him. Right over the synthetic beard, into his lips. He sighed contentedly and opened his mouth, and his hand went to the back of your head. Even after ten years, the spark was still there.

But, unbeknownst to you, Alex and Sophie, your eldest children, did not sleep in their rooms at all, as you thought. No, they were standing at the top of the stairs leading to the second floor, and they were watching you. Rather, they weren't watching you, but Santa, wondering if he had brought them exactly the presents they asked for. But when they saw your kiss, they opened their little eyes in shock.

That's why the first thing you heard in the morning was how the two of them burst into your bedroom and jumped on the bed, shaking Simon.

"Daddy, Mommy is cheating on you with Santa!"