Sunday, May 27, 2018
One of America's Great Newspapers ~ Toledo, Ohio


Thanks, Santa for being a jolly old elf

Dear Santa:

I just wanted to take a minute and thank you for dropping by our house on Christmas Eve. I know you wondered whether you'd have to stop by, given that whole naughty-and-nice thing.

Anyhow, glad you made it. I hope the milk that we left didn't upset your stomach. That whole date thing on the milk carton has always confused me. Are we supposed to drink it by that date, or do we have two weeks afterward? I never know.

We meant to buy some fresh milk, but we ran out of money. It's kind of strange that you bring all the gifts, but we run out of the money.

It must have been hard, but thanks for seeing through our faults and including us in your annual handout.

I really didn't think you'd hold it against us that I disciplined my daughter by singing that “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” song over and over.

It was kind of creative, don't you think? I mean you saw what was happening - since you know when we're sleeping and awake.

“Gabrielle, put your brother down.”




“Oh, you better watch out, you better not cry. You better not pout I'm telling you why,” I'd sing. “Santa Claus is coming to town.”

Sigh. “Oh, all right, Daddy.”

Besides, if you would have held that against me, you would have had to have held it against my neighbor Pat, and she's pregnant. She said she's been singing it for the last month.

It's a little manipulative, I guess. But child-rearing is war. Anything goes.

Which reminds me that I also owe you an apology. But again, I feel it necessary to say first that my actions fall under the “child-rearing is war” thing.

It seems that I occasionally mentioned to Gabrielle that I had to meet with you for a couple of hours for a Christmas briefing. Therefore, she had to take a nap for you to show up. Get it: Little kids aren't allowed to see you. So, she'd go to sleep, and then I could take a nap.

Again, it's manipulative, but she's a maniac, and she never takes a nap anymore. I NEED my nap, and it's not possible with her climbing on my head or jumping on my stomach.

She's really a good kid, however. As you probably know, she is 4 years old now. Ask her, she'll tell you.

And she's a big fan of yours. She cried two weeks ago when we had a fire going in the fireplace, wondering how you'd ever be able to get down the chimney if we were going to be building fires. It's been awfully cold lately, but we refrained from using the fireplace the last couple of weeks for your protection.

Because, as you know, you are her best friend. She's been telling everybody that, which is nice and everything, but I'd be skeptical if I were you. She told me I was her best friend earlier this month, just before her birthday. I hate to be cynical of a 4-year-old, but I think her friendship is based on maximizing her number of presents.

I must tell you that I'm not completely comfortable about you guys being close.

I asked her if she'd tell me if she saw mommy kissing Santa Claus.

She said no.

I'm not too worried about you, but there are a lot of guys out there with gray hair and beards. She could easily get confused. You know what I mean?

I mentioned the whole thing to my wife, and she just laughed. I'm not sure what to make of that. She's always had a thing for Richard Gere.

Well, I don't want to keep you any longer. I know you've got a lot of recuperating to do. And maybe an upset stomach to recover from. Just wanted to say thanks.

Your Friend,


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