Santa Claus Is Coming to Apartment 104

On Christmas Eve, a small bunch of us gathered at my mom’s place for dinner. When we were done eating, we let Bob know that Santa was on his way over to bring everyone their stockings, and then he would bring the other presents to our house for the morning. We told him that he would have to hide in the bathroom with me and Bajan and Pops soon so that Santa could come in and do his work. Jeff and my mom would stay out in the living room to “help.” If that all seems a bit complicated that's only because it is.

While we waited for the phone call from Santa to say that he was on his way, my mom and I sneaked off to her bedroom and holed up in the walk-in closet to stuff the 7 stockings for us all. After a few minutes, Bob broke away from the group in the living room and surprised us by bursting into the closet and demanding to know what we were doing.

“Bob, go back with Daddy,” I said, trying to block his view of our covert operation. “I have to help Mee Mee with the kitty.” Bob was then picked up by Jeff and brought back to the living room.

“Wow. That was close. I think he bought the cat explanation,” I said.

“I know but I just hate lying to him,” said Mom.

“About the cat?”

“Yes.”

“But the cat is the small part. What about this whole elaborate lie about Santa, or even Santa, which is an even bigger lie? You're fine with that."

“Santa isn’t a lie,” Mom said. He’s Santa.”

To hug my mom, the line forms to the right.