When I was a kid, I wanted to believe that Santa Claus was the real-deal. When I began to hear the rumblings that he was just a mythical character who didn’t command a legion of enslaved elves, I was pretty downtrodden. But by the age I was downtrodden, it really wasn’t because I wanted to “believe” due to harboring the imaginative inclinations of a child’s wonderment. It was because Santa gave me a bunch of stuff. And I didn’t want that stuff to be compromised.
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