Christmas was approaching which meant Santa was also approaching. You couldn’t contain your excitement about getting to put out milk and cookies for the fifth year in a row.

Your dad, Alex, knew you still believed in Santa. He didn’t want to hurt you by telling you Santa wasn’t real, you were only 5.

One night, he was on the phone to his friend while you were supposedly sleeping. You had woken up due to whatever reason and gone to seek out your father when you overheard him say, “I don’t know how to tell them that Santa isn’t real. They’re too young, I don’t want to hurt them.”