one monkey short of a barrel.

“I’ve got some bad news,” says my dad when I answer the phone.

Obviously, I get a little worried. When I left, my grandma wasn’t doing very good. My grandpa died at the beginning of the year, and she’s been going downhill ever since.

“Alright,” I say, hesitantly.

“Well, this is your first Christmas away from home, and there’s something you should probably know.”

Now I’m just confused.

“Your stocking, your gifts under the tree… your mom and I buy those,” he tells me, with this tone in his voice. It’s a tone I know well – it happens when he’s trying to be serious but he’s got a big smile on his face. “There is no Santa.”

He just makes me so happy. I’m going to miss his Christmas morning omelets.