Warning: This post is not suitable for anyone under twelve. Please refrain from reading it to your child even if he or she has been naughty this week!
Okay…so whose idea was it to have an insane fat guy in a red suit sneak into our homes in the middle of the night and take credit for giving all the really cool Christmas presents? I mean honestly…does anything about him make sense?
An all-knowing, all-seeing guy who doesn’t have the common sense to live on a tropical island instead of the coldest place on earth?
A guy who is always smiling and in a good mood despite the impossible demands made on him by millions of greedy children?
A guy who is supposed to understand thousands of languages, yet can barely manage more than “Ho,Ho,Ho” when called upon to speak in public?
A guy who needs millions of toys, yet has tiny little elves working for him instead of computers and robots?
A guy who knows he will have to enter homes through chimneys and doggie doors, but can’t put the fork down and lose a pound or two?
Are you kidding me?
That’s the best we could come up with?
I know Santa wasn’t invented by a parent. What parent in their right mind wants jolly St. Nick to take credit for the remote controlled helicopter while they give their kid pajamas and socks? No one. So parents are always trying to outdo Santa, or at least co-ordinate a landing pad and a couple of trucks and a ground-crew of twenty-five little men for the helicopter. It’s a crazy competition that parents seldom win.
I guess that’s why we give up when children are about twelve and tell them the truth and hope they are grateful for all the years we played the game. It gives us a feeling that we are back on a level playing field!
‘Course then we have the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny, and the Halloween gremlins to deal with…