I have the only kid on earth (correct me if I’m wrong) who gives a shit about Santa Claus’s feelings on Easter.
Grady insisted on wearing his Santa pjs while dying eggs so The Big Guy wouldn’t think he’d been tossed aside for some goofy bunny rabbit who poops jelly beans and hides cheap plastic ovals in the sofa cushions.
What can I say? He’s a maverick. And he wears his loyalty on his pjs.