I had an odd dream where I was talking to Santa Claus' son. He was a big man but not fat and he was far less jolly than his dad. We were sipping coffee together watching the rain and he was telling me about his list. Like his father he just knew things about people, specially about who was naughty or nice. Who was beating his wife. Who was abusing their children. Who was robbing the weak. All year long he kept very specific lists.
Because on one special day a year he had all the powers of his father. He could get into any place. Slow down time. Basically a cross between a genie and Superman.
And on that day he had his lists.
"Don't worry," he said, "You are on the nice list."