Well, I finally killed Santa today.


I suppose it was bound to happen.

And I guess it's not surprising it was me.

I'm just ashamed that I used a ten-year-old child as my weapon.


  1. 10 years old! that's pretty old. My oldest brother believed in Santa until he was in 4th grade because a family friend once dressed up as Santa and came when the kids were supposed to be in bed. He saw Santa and no kid was going to tell him otherwise. My parents actually had to sit him down and tell him because he refused to believe the kids at school. At least that's the story I remember...

  2. .

    No, I mean I literally killed Santa. With a knife. Bourne by a ten-year-old child. I'm not proud of this, for heaven's sakes, just trying to soothe my conscience with confession.