Father Christmas and human error
Like most young children I believed in Father Christmas. I never questionned it because I was already accustomed to speaking with ‘non-humans’ (and no, I don’t mean cats and dogs). I never for one minute thought that Mr C was human, *that* would be impossible. But it was very easy for me to believe in him as a non-human / superhuman species of some kind.
So how did I find out that he didn’t exist? He made a mistake! One year he gave my sister and I a comb each. But he gave her the purple one and me the orange one. It was the wrong way round. My young brain pondered for a few seconds before coming to the conclusion that this was a human error, and that the combs could only have been placed on the wrong beds by a human. No more father christmas for me!
