(Radio Announcer Voice) People see Santa Claus once a year, Thanksgiving to Christmas. The view of his life and who he is, is so slanted.
If people truly knew the soap opera life Santa lives the rest of the year, they would clamor to charge him with breaking and entering into their homes on Christmas Eve. Instead, they see him as a benevolent hero delivering government subsidized free presents to nice children everywhere. And so today, we continue with another compelling episode of — (pause for dramatic effect) — North Pole Days of Our Lives!!
Santa rolled over wearing nothing but a pair of over-sized boxers that the tooth fairy had given him. He looked at the clock. 11:12 AM. He’d slept in, again, and knew Mrs. Claus wouldn’t be happy about that.
Besides, Santa knew he snored all night because he didn’t use his Cpap machine for his sleep apnea. Worse yet, he had binged on left over eggnog and cookies the night before, which gives him severe flatulence.
He looked at Mrs. Clause’s side of the bed. Nice. Neat. Not slept in.
There on her pillow was a Hawaiian colored envelope with his name on it, not the official candy cane striped stationary authorized by the North Pole Post Office. His chubby fingers trembled as he struggled to open the letter.
He took a deep breath and began to read:
Dear Santa, Continue reading North Pole Days of Our Lives
Saturday was the annual Christmas parade down town. We found an open curb on the brick street to sit on for a front row view. It was about 6:30 PM, so it was dark, but well-lit with street lamps. Directly across the street a pickup sat in a driveway with the tailgate down. Several adults, all apparently related, were sitting on the tailgate, in lawn chairs around the back of the truck and on the curb ready for a bird’s eye view of the parade that would be starting soon.
About 10 minutes before the first lighted float crawled by, an “unofficial” Santa slowly walked up that side of the street. He looked the part too — real white beard, red suite, black belt and boots, big belly. The “official” Santa always rides the last parade float, so this guy wasn’t the “real” Santa! He was a wanna be Santa, but he was convincing, even for a certified Santaologist.
To the poster child of cuteness little girl sitting on the tailgate, it didn’t matter one iota. To her, this man dressed like Santa was totally, completely and absolutely, the real deal! Continue reading Wanna Be Santa
Sugar – it’s worse than cocaine! The onward swooning of sugar’s allure is woefully tempting! And the Christmas holidays are filled with every sort of the granulated, powdered, refined, and liquified versions of the cane plant.
Sure, I could lame blame it on something like my lack of self-control, but what fun is there in that? Instead, I cast fault on everyone else’s need for an ever-growing fix of sugar.
Truth be told, the ideal world would have none of it. Instead, we’d just reach for a blueberry or celery stick, or maybe just suck on a prune for an hour or so for relief. (No prune relief pun intended). Continue reading Christmas Calories