Last time I was home, my mum had her friends around and I was enscripted into providing amusement for one selfish parent's six year old daughter. Eventually tiring of the sprog staring in silent horror at my black "I hate dolphins" t-shirt, I involved her in a conversation about what she got for Christmas last year. After patiently nodding my way through a fairly comprehensive back catalogue of Bratz and Bratz accessoriez, I said (kindly, in my mind)
"So, did Father Christmas get you anything else?" She gave me a look of pure contempt and said.
"Everyone KNOWS Father Christmas doesn't exist. It's about the Easter Bunny now!"
She actually said this. This is wrong surely? Do you remember ever believing in the Easter Bunny? I mean, Kris Kringle still firmly existed when I was eleven. Tell me I'm right so I can go back and win the argument.