My Father's Daughter

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.


2 thoughts on “The Terrible Truth Revealed

  1. Tee hee! Thanks for the early morning giggle Hez. Nan :)–>

  2. I dunno. If your dad in his underwear was on a Christmas card, I’d probably buy it. Then I’d send it to MY dad. I mean, some people might not think that’d stack up sentimentally against little babies in mangers, or sparkly star or frosty…but heck…THAT’S a card with character.

    Incidentally I’m spending my day reading through these, now that I know you have/had/(may possibly have again) a blog. This is how far I’ve gotten. Also, I have laughed QUITE a bit. You should get back to writing in it. :^)

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