I needed to talk to my mom about something important. I was eight, and among the changes I was going through were changes in my brain – changes in the way I thought about things. The world was changing around me so quickly that it was dizzying, and I needed parental guidance to get my feet planted on some kind of solid foundation.
I was just nervous, not really sure how to word the question, or whether I wanted to know the answer at all.
Finally, one day as I was driving with my mom, I took a deep breath and just asked it:
“Is Santa real?”
I made sure my seatbelt was secure, and braced myself for impact.