My New Favorite Thing

in the Whole World is this parody:

If Hemingway had written "The Night Before Christmas" (envisioned by James Thurber).

There was a long silence. I could hear the children moving again.

“Is Saint Nicholas asleep?” asked the children.

“No,” mamma said. “Be quiet.”

“What the hell would he be asleep tonight for?” I asked.

“He might be,” the children said.

“He isn’t,” I said.

“Let’s try to sleep,” said mamma.

This has been around forever, but somehow I missed it. And I count myself a devotee of the old "New Yorker." To lacuna is human. [Hat tip, Sullivan]