There were books about Sinterklaas, and audio cassettes with songs about him. I had no reason, none whatever, to doubt his existence. He was as real t... me as Allah was to Musa, or God to Melody. And even so, by the time I was eight I fully understood how ridiculous it was to think that a man who was apparently hundreds of years old would ride the rooftops on a white steed and give free presents including personalised poems to a few million people. And I had SEEN Sinterklaas, mind you. I had. ”She looked into my eyes and knew without a shadow of a doubt that I meant it. “Cut me loose.”“Do we have a deal.” I asked“Yes for fuck’s sake.” She said “Just get on with it.”I nodded to the girls and they untied her. I moved to the end of the bed and could see the excitement on the faces of my little sisters. Mum started, half heartedly pleading with me.I stepped back. “And this is supposed to convince your virgin son that you love him is it. I don’t think so.” I said, “Look at it this way.. More

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