3Words: NOEL, EGGNOG, MISTLETOE
“And why is that? I was a good boy this year.” Jimy pulled the girl’s hair, annoyed by her comments. “He must, or I will make him.” He stumped away, but his legs hurt from deep snow. “I hate Santa,..or Noel,..or eggnog,..or presents.” He sat under the pine tree, and tried to hide behind the lowest branches.
It wasn’t fair. The kids will receive many presents, and all he wanted was… for his dad to be home with him this year.
A mistletoe fell next to him.
“Are they gone?”
He looked up.
A tiny man was floating on air.