The Mystery
This was the year it unraveled for my older boy.
St Nick left treats in our boots, just like he does every year. Dad got his usual bottle of beer (gluten-free), mom got an avocado, the younger found a grapefruit and the older a bag of chili lime cashews. Yum. St Nick knows us all very well.
Which the boys notice. “Hey, do you think he just takes these things out of our fruit bowl and cabinet and puts them in our boots?” We’ve heard this question before. When you eat differently from most, the special items the fairies and mythical saints drop off on their way around the world look suspiciously familiar.
“Maybe he lives here,” the almost 11 year old says.
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