"Can you get your dad in on it?" She asked, thinking about the fierce rush of Patrick's protectiveness and trying to picture that on, like, Santa. "Mine was pretty firm bout how if I was ever in trouble, praying to him meant he could come, like, get me. Does your dad work like that? Not like, prayers, I guess– or can he just hear what people want for Christmas? Could you be like, hey pa, what I want for Christmas is you come kick some creepy uncle ass?"
She felt a little wide eyed at the idea. This world was crazy strange.