My Father's Daughter


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The Terrible Truth Revealed

The other day I overheard some of my co-workers discussing when/how they discovered that Santa was not real. Not everyone can pinpoint that moment. I have a very vivid recollection of when that little bit of truth came to my knowledge; it was the Christmas Eve that I snuck out of my room and peered into the living room only to discover that “Santa” wasn’t actually a white-haired, jolly fat man in a red suit with a red sack, but my father in his underwear with a Zeller’s bag. I graciously kept this information from my little brother, and in fact I didn’t tell anyone for years that my Dad was Santa, because well, frankly, Steve in his underwear just wouldn’t sell as many Christmas cards.

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