Being a father, Spencer was obliged to do the annual ritual of dressing up in a big, red suit and an itchy, white beard to play the role of Santa Claus for the happiness of his daughter.

On Christmas Eve, Spencer made sure that your daughter was asleep before slipping on his disguise, much to your amusement. He slung a big, brown sack over his shoulder and tiptoed downstairs. He arranged the gifts with such precision, you could tell he secretly enjoyed the role. When he was finished, you led him underneath the mistletoe and gave him a kiss of appreciation, his white beard tickling your cheeks, for his love of his family. What you didn’t notice, however, was a pair of brown, doe eyes peeking from the stair railing.

The next day, you had all eaten your Christmas breakfast and your daughter was happily unwrapping her gifts, when she suddenly blurted out..

“I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus!”