Thursday, December 25, 2008

Mission Kris Kringle Part II

Creeeeeeeeeeeeak.

My eyes widened, followed by my head jerking in the direction of the my parents bedroom door. Why would either of them be coming out right now? They couldn't possibly be involved with the Santa Claus conspiracy, could they? Then my eyes almost fell out of my face. This couldn't be right. The jolly man-in-red had to come down through the chimney according to all my sources. Yet right now, Santa came through my parent's bedroom door.

The heart inside my chest beat faster than my mom's mixer as I verged on panicking. Now, due to my grave miscalculations...the marble trap would be on the wrong side of the room! Being the nine year old that I was, I only could think of one thing I could do: I tackled Santa Claus. Mind you, such a feat would be impossible for any nine year old but the most determined. Unfortunately, I only managed to get an uninvited piggy-back ride.

The surprised yell that I heard from Santa's mouth sounded familiar, but I didn't notice too much. Santa staggered backwards, and I pulling the red cap over his eyes. I swung off his shoulders as he hit the wall, falling to the floor. Pacing the room as his vision cleared, I rehearsed my questions one last time, and then I gave my performance for Santa Claus to hear.

"So...who are you really, Mr. Claus? No lying this time. I know your secrets!" I asked, challengingly, pacing back at forth.

Santa just sat there, blinking.

"Tell me." I narrowed my eyes, using my deepest, most menacing voice. At the time though, my best voice still sounded like a nine year old kid. Maybe since this Santa guy hung around elves all the time he wouldn't know what a proper voice would sound like.

And still Santa stared.

I glared. Rather than wait for his answer, I yanked off his hat. Then I staggered back as I saw the man underneath the hat. Even with the white beard, I still recognized him: my dad. The implications of such a revelation stopped my breath short. Were all the stories of Santa and his eight tiny reindeer false? Did my dad go to all the trouble to dress up as Santa to fool me? What about the Santa Claus at the mall? Was he a fake too? Who was the real Santa Claus...if anyone at all?

Being the highly intelligent, straight A'd student nine year old that I was, I could only come to one conclusion: "You really are Santa Claus, aren't you?" It explained everything.

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