Scary Santa!
Santa scares the crap out of me. Big red fuzzy outfits. Loud laughter. Breaking and entering in the middle of the night. Dude. We need a new Christmas mascot.
When I was little--still wetting the bed and sucking my thumb--my oldest sister hid in the crawl space with an angry-faced Santa doll.
And when I was walking to the bathroom, just before bed, Scary Santa jumped out at me. Not jumped really, more like hurled itself in my direction. With warm, wet legs and dripping face, I stood traumatized and in need of an emergency room evaluation for heart failure.
Since then, the man in red became the source of most of my nightmares. To get revenge, I wrote a story in third grade about Santa losing his best friend--the snowman--for the Young Authors Contest. I won a trophy for causing Santa to cry. Oh sweet, sweet revenge!
A few years ago, my boys had the same reaction when faced with the big SC. Then two, my oldest HATED sitting on some red stranger's lap! My six-month-old just wanted to eat his arm.
I'd hate it, too! I mean, seriously, why is it alright to just sit on someone's lap and tell them what you want for Christmas? Is that even legal? Can't we pick someone else to sit on and ask for gifts?
So here's what I'm thinking. Maybe we could pick a new Santa. Someone hot. We could start with the Rock.
Maybe we could sit on his lap and ask for gifts. Why not elect a new Santa every year? Think about it: big blow-up Rock lawn ornaments in our front yards one year, and the next year, a new Santa person. Whoever gets elected would be the source of every Christmas smile. Now, come one, pretty please, can't we get away from red-suited jolly men? Remember what he did to Ralphie?!
When I was little--still wetting the bed and sucking my thumb--my oldest sister hid in the crawl space with an angry-faced Santa doll.
And when I was walking to the bathroom, just before bed, Scary Santa jumped out at me. Not jumped really, more like hurled itself in my direction. With warm, wet legs and dripping face, I stood traumatized and in need of an emergency room evaluation for heart failure.
Since then, the man in red became the source of most of my nightmares. To get revenge, I wrote a story in third grade about Santa losing his best friend--the snowman--for the Young Authors Contest. I won a trophy for causing Santa to cry. Oh sweet, sweet revenge!
A few years ago, my boys had the same reaction when faced with the big SC. Then two, my oldest HATED sitting on some red stranger's lap! My six-month-old just wanted to eat his arm.
I'd hate it, too! I mean, seriously, why is it alright to just sit on someone's lap and tell them what you want for Christmas? Is that even legal? Can't we pick someone else to sit on and ask for gifts?
So here's what I'm thinking. Maybe we could pick a new Santa. Someone hot. We could start with the Rock.
Maybe we could sit on his lap and ask for gifts. Why not elect a new Santa every year? Think about it: big blow-up Rock lawn ornaments in our front yards one year, and the next year, a new Santa person. Whoever gets elected would be the source of every Christmas smile. Now, come one, pretty please, can't we get away from red-suited jolly men? Remember what he did to Ralphie?!
Click to view