Dear Santa Claus,
Mommy tells me you are evil every since she started going to church after daddy stopped living with us. And daddy tells me that you don't exist. He has a lot of hair on his face now, like you! But only some of it is white.
But I know you do exist, Santa! When I see you ringing your little bell outside the mall I always laugh. You're so funny!
And sometimes you almost fall down!
Santa, I tried to be very good this year. Not like last year when I made daddy go away. If I was good enough can I please have a flame thrower for Christmas. Or maybe a space ship! A space ship would be really cool! Then on the nights when mommy has Uncle Roger over and they go in her room and yell at each other a lot I can fly to Mars so I don't have to listen to them being so mean.
Sometimes mommy cries after Uncle Roger leaves.
Maybe you can bring mommy a friend so she doesn't cry when Uncle Roger is mean to her and leaves. She always drinks that yucky brown stuff that smells when he leaves, and she cries.
Sometimes I cry too.