I was 7 or 8 when I recognised the Moose Lodge Santa was my father. I was shattered.

My mom consoled me with the Santa helper ploy. That my Dad was one of hundreds of helpers all over the world who collect money on street corners, sit with children for portraits and visit hospitals and give gifts at clubs like the Moose Lodge, because Santa was way too busy supervising the making of toys right up to Christmas Eve.

I fell for it sort of for a couple more years and was quite proud that my Dad was one of the enlisted Santa helpers.

Happy New Year everyone. I put some Almond Toffee bark on the table.