Santa Claus

I recently received a letter postmarked ‘the North Pole’ and you can imagine my surprise; as usually I send letters to that address instead of receiving them. Fear shot through me as my trembling hand held the letter from the Jolly Old Elf, himself. Had I been so naughty that a personalized memo had been necessitated?

Finally, I could wait no longer and opened the neatly handwritten envelope. I was stunned by the contents: Santa had a conflict and wanted me to take his place for a few hours at an event in Toronto. Me, I thought? Why me? I know I have gained a few pounds over the years, but surely I am not plump? My hair is greying, but nowhere near white. It could only be one thing; my bubbling personality.

What would I tell people who asked pointed questions about my origin? What if they wanted to know my background? Sure