I have a friend who believes in Santa Claus. Actually I want to tell you about it. At the age of six, the boy asked Santa for a PlayStation console, but for obvious reasons he did not receive it (parents could not afford to delight the child). For three years, the boy wrote letters to his grandfather. This time he walked cloudy, overwhelmed, in the eyes of determination. Parents are interested:

Why are you so sad?

I am not sad. He is answering.

What happened, tell me.

I am waiting for Santa.

He will definitely come.

When he comes, I’ll steal him. He owes me a playstation.

The son. I have to tell you something about him.

What is?

My mom and I give you gifts. Santa does not exist.

A long look at the parents.

and Dad! It’s good to cover that old stuff!