Day 20: Dear Kevin...

If you've been following my 25 Days Project you will know that I wrote a letter to the Fat Man from the North on Day 2.  Well wouldn't you know...he actually wrote back!  To get a letter from Santa in reply to one you sent is pretty cool, maybe this is what I needed to get out of my jolly funk.  I haven't read it yet but I copy and pasted it here so we can all read it together for the first time...I'm actually kind of excited.

Dear Candy Cane Ass,

I normally don't write back to the MILLIONS of letters I receive every year, in fact I never do but I read yours and thought to myself...this one needs some explaining.  You made some very valid points in your letter and I would like to take some time to answer them.

The first thing I want to tackle is, telling the truth doesn't always work, you've been an ass all year long and one sentence isn't going to change that.  Even though I am not the same Santa that is in every mall and goes to every church breakfast, they report back to me.  Kids all the time tell me that they haven't been very good all year but maybe I can give them a pass.  Do I look like a priest during confession?  It's not that simple..."Say two Our Fathers and call me in the morning.", that crap doesn't fly with me.  It's cut an dry you're either Naughty or Nice, that's it, coal or toys, there is no in between.

The next thing I would like to explain is my fluffiness.  Do you think I like being a fat ass all year long?  I have a thyroid problem you jerk!  I wear many layers of clothes because I don't want my moobs to show and you of all people should know that feeling.  I do have an exercise program in the off season, it's called throwing my back out humping your wife.

You asked what I did in the off time?  What off time?  The way you humans are, Christmas basically runs year round.  Just like most people, I get the typical two weeks off a year and I spend those two weeks drinking beer.  Just because Christmas is over on December 26 doesn't mean I stop working you dumbass.  You know all of those presents that get returned?  The stores can't keep them in stock so they get shipped up here until about Valentine's Day.  I recycle them with the help of my Elves into next year's presents.

Just when I think I can get a breather, you greedy bastards throw in Christmas in July!  What is this shit?  Now you expect me to arrive a second time AND in the middle of summer?  Do you know how hard it is for a fat man to work in the middle of summer?  Wait, yes you do I forgot...

Then after July 25th passes, I need to prepare for the millions of toys that I need to drop off to the kids ALL OVER THE WORLD.  Did I mention MILLIONS???  That shit isn't easy to do, even with the help of my Elves who by the way fall under the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy we have up here.  We download the List to our iPads and when people say we check it twice, they're wrong.  I have OCD and I check it at least a dozen times.  This is crunch time for me, I need to sort out the coal and the presents and it's not like we use magic to make our toys, those things are hand made bitch.

I'm sorry, I never get to vent to anyone except Mrs. Claus and she can be a downright CU Next Tuesday.  I've been married to her for, um, well I lost count after a hundred years, but I've been married to her for a long, long time.  I also have the therapist Elf, but she's too busy dealing with all of the Elf on the Shelf misfits.  You really didn't think yours was the only "broken" one did you?  I don't know what it is with those Elves, every single one of them is fucked in the head.

I have to be honest, your letter hit home and that is why I chose you to be the first person I have ever written back to.  No one knows how hard it is to be Santa, but yet you hit every nail on the head.  I have to make sure my reindeer aren't covered in glitter and working a pole, the Elves need to be watched 24/7 to makes sure they aren't running amok (maybe I should start CORI checking them) and I need to meet with the lawyers all the time making sure I have proper documentation for everything I do and plan to do.

My job is a very stressful job but maybe you're the one who could possibly help me.  I have read your blog while on the shitter and I have to say, you and I have a lot in common.  I know you probably won't be able to help out a lot but every little bit helps right?  I have two simple requests that maybe you could spread the word about.

1.  Instead of milk and cookies, can people leave Diet Coke and a shwarma?  Too many sweets make me gassy.

2.  I have a couple of favorite Christmas songs I like to hear every year.  Can the people have a playlist playing for me when I drop off the presents?  I would like the following songs on the playlist as they are my favorites.

Again, I am sorry for my venting but you seemed like the kind of guy who would listen.  I hope you have a Merry Christmas and thank you for spreading the word...you douche.

Kris Kringle

P.S.  I am sorry for the fucked up Elf I sent you, I tried to help out by telling him to off himself but that didn't work...

Day 16: Being A Dad on Christmas

 Things sure have changed since Minion #1 came barreling down the sperm slide and Christmas is no different.  Before we had the Minions things were different (duh), Christmas was about us.  We would have a nice quiet Christmas Eve, watching a movie or two and enjoying each others company, if you know what I mean....you don't know what I mean?  Got tinsel stuck in places we didn't know tinsel could get stuck.  Made the sound activated lights go on and off.  Get it?  We defiled the Christmas tree skirt on Christmas Eve, OK?

Then on Christmas morning we would go to my parent's house and open presents there, my half sister would come over with her family and we would have dinner and open more presents.  Looking back it was a pretty good time...and I miss it.  But all of that changed a little over nine years ago...

Thanks guys...it's...great.

Being a Dad on Christmas is different and took some adjusting to.  I still get cool gifts like my Star Wars Legos and I don't get the stereotypical tie, sweater or underwear (which actually, if you're reading this Trophy, I need underwear) but it's different now, it's more about the Minions, which after Friday's tragedy, is a good thing.

It starts on my way home from work a day or two prior to Christmas Eve.  I inevitably get a phone call or text from The Trophy to pick up "such and such" at the grocery store....great, going to the grocery store a day or two before Christmas is like, well, going to the grocery store the day before Thanksgiving, it's suicide.  Without fail, the item she wants me to get is Christmas related.

"Can you pick up some eggnog?" or "I need gingerbread cookies for the pie." or "You know what would be good tonight?  A yule log."  And I do it because I love her.  I head into the grocery and shove my way through to crowd of last minute dumbasses (Christmas happens the same day every year, just like Thanksgiving...fucking prepare for it!) and find the last carton of eggnog, the crushed package of gingerbread cookies and the yule log...did you know that a yule log is meant to be eaten nowadays?  I didn't, so I brought home a wooden log, which I thought was odd seeing we don't have a fire place.

As a Dad at Christmas it's my job to fend the Minions away from the secret present hiding place (A.K.A. our bedroom).  I feel like an NHL goalie.  Stomp, stomp, stomp (good thing the Minions are not graceful).  I open the door a little bit like the mean munchkin from the Wizard of Oz, to see what they want and promptly shove my foot out the door to keep them at bay.

Also my duty is to make sure the milk, cookies and carrots are left out for the Fat Man from the North Pole and his beasts.  Part of this duty is to eat whatever cookie the Minions decide to leave for him and drink the, by that time, warm milk and nibble the carrots.  I also have to use my best Santa handwriting and leave a thank you note.  You might be thinking this is easy, but my Minions are miniature Magnum PI's, they will notice the smallest little detail if it's wrong.  I need to leave just enough crumbs and part of a cookie from Santa because he could never possibly eat ALL of the cookies the other kids give him.  I also have to leave the carrots with chew marks in them, do you know how hard it is to model reindeer chew marks?  I've got it down to a science now.  I also have to drink the entire glass of milk, Santa is thirsty after all and it's ALWAYS milk, I've suggested other beverages for him, eggnog, soda, a coffee, beer, but the Minions swear by milk.

Another Dad duty that most of us don't even know we signed up to do is to not know what the Minions are getting for Christmas.  I know The Trophy tells me what they are getting and I even watch her wrapping the presents but damned if I know what they get so I'm just as surprised as they are on Christmas morning.

"Look Dad!  I got a Wampa Skin Rug and #2 got a Tauntaun Sleeping Bag

"Oh, holy crap!  Yeah you did, that's right!"

By the way, we do have a Wampa Skin Rug AND a Tauntaun Sleeping Bag...any doubters now bitches?

The Trophy in a golden bikini laying on the Wampa Rug?  Yes please!

And I thought they smelled bad...on the outside.

The most important job that I have as a Dad at Christmas is enjoying the excitement of the Minions and spending the day with my family.  I get to sit on the couch in my robe and slippers, drinking coffee at 5:30 AM while The Trophy chases the Minions around with the camera, taking pictures we will never see again.

You know what, I wouldn't change it for the world.

Unbelievable!  Gonads was resurrected after the puree incident.  We received a Christmas Card in the mail full of stripper dust and that must have signaled to Gonads to hit the tit-pit this time.

Oh yeah, I'm submitting this to Dude Write this week because nothing screams Christmas like a bunch of Dude bloggers competing for a prize!  Go check it out, read the awesome blogs and them come back Monday to vote!