Santa and Friends: The Real Story Beyond the Lights

Looking at all the colorful lights and holiday displays you would probably say everything is going splendidly. But I promise you, things are not always as they seem. I felt a lot of anxiety in the air as I drove through my neighborhood. Maybe Santa and friends are anxious about the big night. Could be. I don’t know, but I got an earful as I drove by their happy, smiling, sometimes tipped over bodies. This is what I heard. This is the real story:

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Why do they always put us on top of the roof? I don’t know why, but I feel a bit distant, forgotten, like they don’t care. Can anyone even see us here? Is anyone looking? Hey you, down there. We’re up here. Just keep waving.

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That’s on TOP of the roof…Up on the housetop reindeer pause, Out jumps Good Old Santa Claus…ring any bells? They make my life so difficult.

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What are they doing putting all three of us together like this? It confuses the kids. They already see us at all the malls. I say on 3, we scramble. Ready: 1 -2- 3…

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There! That ought to do it. They won’t have a clue now.

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Wipe that smile off your face, Prancer. You think you’re special because you can fly. Lend a hoof why don’t you? And take that wreath off. It’s only going to slow you down and it looks ridiculous.

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Santa, you know I would help if I could…and even if I could, I can walk too good. I’d probably slow you down. I certainly can’t fly, just so you know.

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No one thinks I’m a snowman. No one is buying this. Whatever is this prickly, brown material I sit on? Where is the snow?

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If my photo wasn’t so blurry, you could see that I’m a beautiful peacock. I’m the one that isn’t that obnoxious red or green color. I have nothing to do with the holidays, but I am the best looking thing on this lawn. I’m marvelous, darling.

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We’re already working double shifts at the park over the holidays and now we have to work the neighborhoods, too.
Mickey, I don’t think I can hold on to this package a second longer.
You can do it, Minnie. Just think, soon we’ll deflate and we’ll be touching again.

I must be losing it…I hope you enjoyed that holiday cheer! I’ll be stepping away from my blog until next year. Please enjoy your holiday and be safe.

Wishing you a bright and merry holiday 
and peace, love and happiness for the New Year 2016!! 

With Love,
Amy

The Trimmings Tell the Real Story

Walking through my neighborhood, I pause to look at the various holiday decorations. And, guess what? I’m on to you, Santa. Santa has been very bad. If you look deep enough, and trust me, I always look deep, you will just need a few clues to put this puzzle together.

You think Santa has been busy with the season? The trimmings tell the truth behind Santa’s twinkling eyes and his merry dimples, and his diligent elves, working day and night.

They paint the picture that they’re working so hard:

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Look at them. Look at the smiles on those faces. They are not to be trusted, because get this. Here it was almost noon and I catch Santa still in bed…with a list of names….

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Sure, it’s the Naughty and Nice List. Uh huh. Sure it is. Tell me, Santa, what are you doing with that list in bed at noon time? I’m sure I don’t want to know. Is this the Naughty List by any chance? Don’t those elves of yours take care of this list, hmm?

I checked on those elves, and this is what I saw:

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Rough night, huh? Too many peppermint candies? Too much hammering?

I’m sure this is why they put the poor deer to work, because I observed this as well:

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Where is Santa now? Where’s his sleigh?  Allowing this deer to go out all by herself with a sleigh? The fragile deer is slaving away with no berries in sight. What about the others? Where are they? They are no doubt partying it up with Peacock here. All he has to do is spread his feathers.

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Where’s his sleigh? I tried to get Santa to comment, but he was otherwise “Occupied,” guarded by two deer:

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Now you know. Everybody poops and so does Santa. If you look more closely, Santa has either shrunk or he is halfway down the toilet. Perhaps, this is his secret travel mechanism to reach the other side of the world so quickly. It’s his black hole. I’ve heard of stranger theories.

What about you? Are you enjoying the magic of the season? How is the shopping/gifting/baking/wrapping going?

We are expecting what they are naming the “Storm of the Century.” I’ll believe it when I see it. I have hot cocoa. Hey, this marks my 300th post. So, cheers!

Here’s my effort to send some holiday cheer your way! I hope you are feeling merry and bright.

Santa, The Jig Is Up

Santa, I’m on to you. Who’s been naughty or nice? I have an answer to that question.

It appears that the orange that people put in their stockings has its own story…and it’s huge! I think this is the closest I’ll ever get to solving the mysteries of the Universe and Everything.

First, the supposed story of the orange goes something like this. Bishop Nicholas wanted to help a poor man by providing a dowry for his three, lovely daughters. Because the poor man did not accept charity, Bishop Nicholas secretly threw bags of gold coins down their chimney, which magically landed in their stockings hung by the fireplace. These bags of gold transformed into balls of gold, which are now symbolized by oranges.

They they are again. Suspicious oranges.
There they are again. Suspicious oranges.

Not so fast, Nicholas. Why all the secrets, huh? You say it’s because the father didn’t want to accept charity, but how did you come across three bags of gold? Maybe it was you who wanted to keep it a secret. Never mind that the dowry was for a woman who would marry someone else. That’s beside the point. I think our friend Nicolas was trying to impress a lady. I’m going to go out on a limb here, because I feel it in my bones, and say that Nicholas did this for a woman with intentions that weren’t altogether pure. He did this for a love that he could not have.

But, alas, this was the next best thing…to see her have happiness. He watched her from a distance and threw himself into gift giving.

And, now, we’re all running around like rabbits, trying to fulfill his hidden agenda, anxious and stressed out. All for the sake of a woman. Yes, it all makes sense now. It’s crystal clear. St. Nick, consider yourself found out. I bet you never thought I would reveal this on a blog with readers that could number in the millions. It could happen.

I imagine now that I have revealed this story, there will be a mad rush to make a documentary or, perhaps, an Academy award-winning film. Of course, this won’t happen. No one would ever produce it because Christmas would be ruined for the kids.

But for the record, the first gift of Christmas was cold, hard cash in the form of gold coins. My oldest son has requested cash for Christmas. First, he requested books, which I was happy about until I learned he wants them in hardcover only. I explained hardcover cost quite a bit more than the soft cover. He, however, wants the hardcover for his collection that he will hand down to his kids. Such a manipulator. Just the books, oh, and some cash, in addition to some gifts he assumes he’s getting.

Oh, he can have some cash. Here darling, how about all that I have left? Here’s a dollar. That will get you half a candy bar, which will taste as good as a whole one. If that isn’t enough to satisfy you, look deeper into your stocking…you can have that orange.

Nicholas, Saint, jolly man…I hope it was worth it.