I was five-years-old when I found a tiny baby doll in my Christmas stocking. Even worse, Santa had given my sister a cool toy fire truck that I just knew dang well should’ve been mine. It took years of therapy to get over the trauma.
How could Santa make such a colossal blunder? It made me wonder what else he might be messing up. Was he just flying around, dispensing toys higgly-piggly? A kid in Zambia gets an ice fishing kit? An Eskimo child gets an elephant saddle?
My confidence further eroded as I examined the Santa historical records, otherwise known as Christmas songs. For example, Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer states: “Then one foggy Christmas Eve…”
That’s foggy, mind you. Not snowy. Not blizzardy. Just foggy.
“…Santa came to say, ‘Rudolph with your nose so bright, won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?’”
I find it astounding that Santa—this amazing problem-solver, who routinely crams toys for all the children of the entire earth into one sleigh and then delivers them in one night, and has even figured out a way to make reindeer fly—is stumped by fog. Let a little of it roll in and he’s completely dumbfounded.
“Uh-oh. Looks like we’ve got fog. Never seen this before. Unless I can find a mammal with some sort of luminescent appendage, we’re gonna have to call the whole thing off.”
What about a couple of fog lights, Santa? Shouldn’t the song be: I got me a couple o’ halogens,
Now I can make my rounds again!
To me, it sounds like Santa is just looking for a reason to goof off. Could it be the reason for his sloppy work is that he’s ready to retire? It makes me wonder if Santa is still fit for the job. Maybe it’s time to start looking for a replacement.
My recommendation is that we let Santa stay on with the company but transfer him to the Easter Egg Delivery Division. We could then promote the Easter Bunny to Santa’s present job, just as long as he promises not to tease Santa about it.
By the way, if we do promote the Easter Bunny, we’ll have to be sure that everyone keeps their dogs locked up on Christmas Eve. It wouldn’t do for the kids to find Santa Bunny lying in front of the tree on Christmas morning. There isn’t enough therapy in the world to treat that kind of trauma.
©2018 Charles Marshall. Charles Marshall is a nationally known humorous motivational speaker and author. Visit his Website CharlesMarshallSpeaker.com or contact him via email at Charles@CharlesMarshallSpeaker.com