Untrue Confessions of a Thirty Something Fibber – December 2013

Welcome to the Christmas edition of Untrue Confessions. Today I’ve got some mind blowing confessions that, if they were true, would rock you to your very core.

Confession #1

Last year I sat on Santa’s lap and pretended to be a six year old boy. My only wish in the entire world was for a pet iguana that wore a sweater vest and was large enough that I could ride on his back everywhere I wanted to go- like a horse, but infinitely more awesome. I’d like to say the jolly old elf came through for me, but I’m sad to report that Senior Greenie McDoogal (that’s what I was going to name him) was not under the tree.  My fingers are crossed that he’ll be there this year. I don’t imagine a giant iguana with a fondness for sweater vests is easy to come by so perhaps Santa just needed an extra year to track one down.

Untruth numero dos

I’m addicted to Christmas cookies. My favorite is peanut butter cookies with both peanut butter chips and chocolate chips. I take credit for creating said cookie because I’ve never seen it mentioned elsewhere. Anyway, two years ago is when it got interesting. I decided a few dozen wouldn’t be enough to last me so I had my wife bake not ten, not twenty, not even thirty, but sixty eight dozen of these glorious concoctions. I kid you not, each cookie was as large as my head. Sadly, the soft chewy deliciousness lasted only three days before I devoured each and every crumb. I may not be able to fit through the door now, but it was worth it.

The Fib to End All Fibs

There is something I’ve never told anyone before. The truth of the matter is that Santa Claus does exist. I know this for a fact because I’m employed by the fat man. I work under the codename Dasher. Surely you’ve heard of were-wolves. Well, I come from a long line of were-reindeer. My father before me and his father before him, all the way back to my great, great, great, great granddad, worked for the big guy, all under the guise of the name Dasher. That’s how the reindeer live on. Santa himself, he’s technically Santa Claus XII, but the roman numerals tend to confuse children, so he just leaves them off and pretends he never ages.

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2 responses to “Untrue Confessions of a Thirty Something Fibber – December 2013

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