This story begins on Christmas Eve, one like any other. We decorated our tree, hung up our stockings, and brushed our teeth before we went to bed.

Except I didn’t go to bed after I walked into my parents’ room and saw wrapping paper and small, shiny, bows and ribbons scattered about the room like candy.

Huh?

My parents have already wrapped and sent gifts to friends and other family members (even all my evil cousins – that’s a story for another day).

So… whose presents were they wrapping? They can’t be for anyone we already knew!

Upon discovering this, I decided that I had to investigate (cue the Mission Impossible music). I was determined to stay awake all night to discover the truth. I drank lots of soda and ate lots of candy while I read my favorite book: “The Polar Express,” in an effort to stay awake.

Not long after, it was 11 o’clock, and my eyelids were fighting to stay open. I was about to drift off when I heard footsteps slowly approaching my room. As the sound came closer to my door, I quickly closed my book and turned off my lamp, diving under the covers. I heard the door to my room slowly creep open.

Who could it be? Santa?

 I peeped just one eye open, and with a light shining behind the figure that opened the door, I realized it was just my mom (dang it!). She walked towards my bed and kissed my forehead before leaving my room and with my door slightly cracked behind her. I heard her retreat as she walked down the stairs.

The coast was clear.

Intrigued, I slowly tip-toed out of my bed and crept outside of my room towards the staircase, decked with tinsel and garland.

After about five minutes of waiting, I spotted my mom walking toward the Christmas tree holding various gifts wrapped in the same bright red, metallic wrapping paper I had seen the night before.

What is she doing?

I watched in horror as my mom set the presents under the Christmas tree. I dodged behind the couch just as she turned around, her elf-themed socks padding her footsteps as she crept closer and closer…

…And proceeded to eat the cookies we had baked together for Santa! She left one half-eaten cookie on the plate and scurried into the kitchen.

When I could no longer hear the ringing of the jingle bells on her socks, I ran up quietly into my room and slipped back into my bed. I laid there staring at the ceiling, trying to understand what I had just seen.

I couldn’t sleep that night. It just… didn’t make sense.

I went over the night’s events for what felt like a million times just to be sure I had my story straight. After seeing my mom put my presents under the tree and eat the cookies for Santa, I had come to the conclusion:

Santa’s real, obviously. There’s something else I’m missing.

And then it hit me.

My parents had betrayed me.

They’ve been lying to me all of these years. I felt my blood begin to boil. Why have they kept this from me? She let me believe that Santa was bringing me presents every year and it was her all along! Of course Santa wouldn’t be able to give every child in the world presents (or coal), there’s only so much magic can do.

At least, not without help.

I walked down the stairs, suspiciously, atypical from my usual Christmas morning excitement. I heard the jingle bells on my moms slippers, and instantly my brain clicked. It all makes sense now. It would be practically impossible for Santa to be fake, I mean come on now, let’s think logically here. I knew the truth, and I was determined to take it upon myself to confront my parents.

“Merry Christmas, sweetie!” my mom said as she hugged me; I could not help but stare at the jingle bells on my parents matching slippers. I looked at the slight point on my dads ears as he sipped on his coffee and took into consideration how short my mother was. Quickly, I pulled away from my moms embrace and stomped my foot.

“Mom! Dad! How could you not tell me you were Santa’s elves?!”