I had heard the rumors.
At first I dismissed them
As typical school yard bluster.

Still,
I had wondered for a time,
Why Santa seemed such a enigmatic chameleon.

I had met him personally
A number of times.
Much serious lap time for gift "suggestions".

I had seen him in parades,
At the movies,
And on television.

Each and every time
It had seemed he had changed his look.
Sometimes minimally, sometimes drastically.

Plus there were the inconsistencies.
Some years, when my behavior was exemplary,
I didn't get the presents I had hoped for.

Other years, when my "goodness" quotient
Dipped rather dramatically,
I scored my entire wish list.

I suppose I had chalked this up
To Mr. Claus's advanced age
Or perhaps exaggerated powers.

So it was, on the Christmas morning
Of my ninth year,
I asked my parents the big question.

It may have been the book from Santa
That contained a price sticker
From a local stationary store.

It may have been the sweater
The exact color wool
I had seen in my mother's knitting.

"Are you guys Santa"
I asked incredulously?
Not really expecting their frank response.

The next moment the secret was revealed.
I recall gathering myself sufficiently to declare,
"I knew that!".

12/19/2008

Posted on 12/19/2008
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