Yesterday, Grace stood next to me in the kitchen. Every few seconds she laughed inexplicably. I raised my eyebrow at her. She laughed again. As I stirred her Ramen, the nervous laughter disappeared.
"Mom, is Santa real?"
Quick. Hit the stop button. Rewind. Anything that would take me away from that moment. I was not ready. Everything in her face told me that every possible cute answer I might give was going to fail. Still, I threw a Hail Mary.
