(My siblings and I are at the zoo with my parents. It is December, so they have a Santa’s Grotto for kids to visit. I’m about four and my sister is six. Whilst my mum takes my baby brother for a feed, my dad takes my sister and me to see Santa. We both still believe in Santa, but our parents have also told us that the “Santas” you see in shops, etc, are almost never the real one, just his helpers, because he’s too busy to visit everywhere in the run up to Christmas. This is why there are so many different Santas around.)

Santa: “Hello, girls! What can I get you for Christmas?”

Me: “I want a toy dog, please!”

Sister: “Sparkly pens, please!”

Santa: “My, what good choices! I’ll see what I can do!”

Me: *loud whisper* “Daddy, is it really Santa or one of his helpers?”

Santa: *overhearing, turns to my dad with a smile* “Ah, sorry, sir! What did you say your name was?”

Dad: “Oh, it’s [Dad].”

Santa: “Oh, [Dad], of course! I almost didn’t recognise you. How’s the train set I gave you all those years ago? Still got it?”

(My dad tells him that the train set is at his parents’ house. Santa smiles and says he is glad my dad enjoyed it. My sister and I each get to choose a cheap present from Santa’s sack before we leave. As we’re going, I turn to my dad.)

Me: “Daddy, did you really get a train set for Christmas when you were little?”

Dad: “Yes, I did! I played with it all the time. We should ask Granny to get it out when we go round there!”

(In awe, I gazed back at Santa, who smiled and waved at me. Until I became old enough to realise Santa wasn’t real, I was convinced that I had met the true Santa!)

(Mom has decided that it’s about time to tell my younger brother, now seven, the truth about Santa Claus. So one day she sits him down and asks him a question to feel out how best to start this conversation.)

Mom: “[Brother]… you believe in Santa Claus, right?”

Brother: “Uh…”

Mom: “You can tell me the truth, okay?”

Brother: *sheepishly* “I’ve known you and Dad are really Santa for a couple years now, but I didn’t say anything so I could keep getting presents.”

(Smart kid. He’s 22 now but still gets presents.)

(We are sitting at the breakfast table.)

Young Brother: “[My Name], what’s the moon phase?”

(I start explaining the phases of the moon in great detail. Then, I start talking about Jupiter’s moons. Then, I start taking about Zeus [Jupiter] in mythology.)

Young Brother: *to Mom* “I know what I want to get with my Christmas money.”

Mom: “What?”

Young Brother: *pointing at me* “A muzzle.”

(It is Christmas Day and I am cooking dinner for the first time, as my aunt has lost her leg and can no longer do it. She is making it very clear how she feels about it, as she has been doing it 30 years. I hear this conversation taking place.)

Aunt: “If I was cooking, we’d be eating by now. She’s taking ages.”

Mum: “Then go and ask her when it’ll be ready.”

Aunt: *annoyed* “Why should I? It should be done by now; she should hurry up. I don’t know why we couldn’t have it at your house, [Mum]; her house is awful. You can’t even go in the kitchen, because the door’s locked.”

Granddad: *annoyed* “Do you want it cooked properly or not?”

(More complaining ensues. We are now having dinner.)

Brother: “These potatoes are amazing. Are they homemade?”

Me: “Yes. I got the recipe online.”

Aunt: *annoyed* “I could have made these without a recipe on the Internet. You kids are so lazy these days. You could have asked me for a recipe. I don’t see why we should have to do this differently from last year. I could have made dinner, and it would have tasted a lot better than this, and—”

Granddad: *angry* “Would you shut up? You couldn’t cook dinner because you can barely walk. You can’t fit all seven of us into [Mum]’s small bungalow, and there is nothing wrong with [My Name]’s house. This dinner is delicious, and if you don’t like it, don’t f****** eat it.”

(My aunt shut up, finished her dinner, and went into the living room where she sulked for the remainder of the time she was here. It has been three weeks and she is still avoiding me.)

(It is Christmas time. I am visiting home from university, and my sister and I are trying to do as much Christmas shopping as we can in the limited time we have. Since I attend school 18 hours away, I’m not on my parents insurance, but my sister is. Our parents agree to let us borrow the car if we promise to pick my dad up from his work later in the afternoon. As a result, we do a lot of shopping close to where my dad works. During this trip, I am annoying my sister, unintentionally, by forgetting to lock the door. I am used to a friend’s car at my school, where, if you lock her door manually, it throws off the automatic system. We get to our last stop and I FINALLY remember to lock my door. I even make a big show of waving my hands at her and pointing at the locked door. She smiles, gives me a thumbs up, grabs her purse, and closes the door. As we go to walk away, I notice something is off.)

Me: “Is… Is the car running?”

Sister: “I just locked the keys inside the car.”

(We both just look at each other in disbelief over what happened THE ONE TIME forgetting to lock the door would’ve been helpful. We look around, hoping that maybe there is another way in, but alas, no. So, my sister has to call my dad.)

Sister: “Hi, Dad. Sorry to bother you, but I am at [Store] and I accidentally locked the keys in the car.”

Dad: *taking it surprisingly well* “Oh, that’s fine; I actually have the spare key with me.”

Sister: *relieved* “Really?”

Dad: “Yeah, so, I can get a ride down and come help you out when I finish at three.”

(This would’ve been great if it was close to 3 pm, but it was 1 pm.)

Sister: “Yeah, here’s the thing: it’s kind of on.”

Dad: *pause* “It’s what?

Sister: “The car is sort of running.”

Dad: *slowly* “So, you’re telling me that you locked the keys in the car, with the car running?”

Sister: “Yeah.”

(My dad sighed and said he would get his colleague to drive down with the key and help us out. Since we had already messed up by locking the keys in the car, we didn’t want our car to get stolen if we left it. So, even though it was winter in Canada, and therefore freezing, we waited outside for our saviour. To keep warm, we invented a jig, which we named after the colleague, and danced to it. The lyrics were basically repeating his name over and over, occasionally adding in his nickname. He did come and save us, so we bought him chocolates and a thank-you card for our dad to give him the next day.)