Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I know that you don’t exist, but I wanted to write you a letter because I figured you might be lonely in your non-existence.  I know you have your other imaginary friends like the tooth-fairy and Batman, but it must be hard, even so, for you to recognize that you are simply a figment of the collective imagination of countless children and marketing firms.

For Christmas this year, I know that you won’t be coming down the chimney into my fireplace, because, well, I don’t have a fireplace, and besides, you aren’t real.  So I hope that you don’t mind that I plan to eat any cookies and drink any milk that I find on Christmas Eve.

If you do plan on leaving any gifts under my tree this year, just label them “From Mom and Dad”, because I know that’s who they’re really from anyways.

Santa, don’t be too hard on yourself.  I’m sure that you must just beat yourself up sometimes wishing that you were really real.  But think of all the stress you would face if you were real.  I mean, visiting all  the houses of all the good boys and girls in a single evening would be pretty exhausting, even if flying reindeer did exist.  It’s really a good thing that you’re not real, because flying reindeer don’t exist, and you’d probably wear yourself out in looking for them…especially one with a shiny red nose!

So my advise to you is:  take it easy this year!  You’re not real, so why pretend that you are?  You’re only imagining your own existence, so there is no reason to stress about all of your imaginary tasks.  Take Christmas off for once.  You’ll see, nothing at all will change.  Nobody will notice that you didn’t come…and all the kids and marketing executives will assume that you really did come (even though they presents they got actually came from their moms and dads).

Your Friend,

The Easter Bunny.


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