You didn’t know what had woken you up that night. Maybe it was the excitement of what was to come the next day, Christmas. Maybe it was the anxiety that when you walked down the steps, your parents still wouldn’t be home. Even though they had promised.

After a few moments of sitting in bed, considering your choices, you decided that you were too thirsty to ignore you dry mouth any longer.

You climbed out of bed, your feet hitting the cold, hardwood floor of your room. You tiptoed to the door, carefully opening it, even though you were the only one home. The tree was still lit, you had left it on for Santa. You walked to the kitchen, the hallway full of doors, all closed except for the one leading to the kitchen.

But as you walked down the hall, you noticed something strange. A light coming from papa’s office. You weren’t allowed in there. You knew that and had never entered the space without papa’s permission. You had learned not to since the last time you made that mistake. When you were four.

You were six now though! And you knew you had never entered papa’s office. So why was the light on?

You crept over to the door, pressing your face to the keyhole. A figure was inside, moving around. You watched as the figure was at papa’s desk, shuffling through something. You backed away; your eyes wide. Santa was in papa’s office! He must have gotten your letter finally! You smiled, excitement bubbling up. You would get to see your parents this Christmas!

You sat there for a moment; water forgotten. Would Santa be mad if you said hi? Would you not get to see your parents if you were awake when Santa was here?

Then the door swung open. You toppled to the ground without the door there to hold you up, letting out a gasp. Santa also gasped, dropping some papers you were holding to catch you.

“Well, hello there.” He chuckled, helping you to your feet. Phil hadn’t excepted a child to think of him as Santa, but they were small…