I, at one time, was deathly afraid of Santa Claus.
I was six years old, I didn't get it. My mother tells me about some old, fat guy who's gonna break into our house at Christmas and steal all our milk and cookies. The rest of the year he knew when I was sleeping, he knew when I was awake, he knew when I'd been bad or good. I'm thinking, who is this peeping Tom and why is he stalking me?