“Has she been a good girl?”
🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻
The words stop the functional part of my brain — the part that reminds me I’m at the mall with my little brother getting a picture with Santa for our parents — and lights a fire deep inside me.
 
I haven’t been a good girl.
 
And for some reason, I want this mall Santa to know.
 
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