Santa Claus stopped by my house yesterday…

Santa Claus stopped by my house yesterday in the late afternoon. He’d lost his way.

“This is Pago Pago,” I told him. “You took a wrong turn.”

He jerked his chin hopefully at one of the wicker chairs set in the shade of my veranda, while peering at me over his wire rim glasses. I nodded and poured him a martini out of the shaker I’d brought out. He sat down heavily and unbuttoned his heavy red suit. “Do you mind?” he asked as he peeled off the thick jacket, revealing a tee shirt that read, “I can see Russia from my kitchen.” He kicked off his big black boots. I looked away as he pulled off his red pants, but luckily he had some very reasonable exercise shorts on underneath so all I saw was a big gut, short hairy legs, and white sox.

We both stared out at the ocean. The tide was going out. “Can your roof hold eight tiny reindeer?” he asked after a sip and a long sigh. “And an empty sleigh?” he added, not quite looking at me.

“No problemo.” I tried to act relaxed, as if this sort of thing happened every day. “It’s tile.” I sipped my martini and watched him out of the corner of my eye.

And then…

6 responses to “Santa Claus stopped by my house yesterday…

  1. And then he nodded off.

    An hour later I was still sitting there watching him sleep. The ice cubes from his drink were long gone. He looked so tired. I held back the questions that were leaping around in my mind, needing answers. Like, why didn’t he bring me the Barbie doll I had asked for when I was 8 instead of roller skates. Or the Easy Bake Oven I wanted when I was 10. It could have changed my life forever! Right now I could be a world renowned Chef instead of a College Professor teaching wannabes how to write creative stories.

    Lost in memories I drifted off in sleep. When I awoke, he was gone. Just an empty glass left on the end table beside his chair.

    Was that a package by the door? I moved towards it with anticipation. Tearing at the wrapping paper like I was a child, I opened the box. Inside was a dozen pentel pencils and a blank notebook with one word on the cover – IMAGINE.

  2. “Wouldn’t ya know,” I said. “Dude’s still bringing me do-it-yourself” kits instead of finished products.”

    I looked at the empty martini shaker. “This is going to take something stronger than a martini, but what on earth is stronger than a martini? Everclear?” I glanced over at Sleeping Santa and suddenly it struck me. Why would he want to land an EMPTY sleigh on my roof?

  3. (Sorry for being a male ladies, but this was the first thing that poppped into my mind:)

    And then he ripped one off that set the wicker on fire. “Sorry, my last stop was in Guadalajara and the salsa was extra spicy.”

    I was afraid the martini might explode next, but being the good host that I am, I played a tune that rivaled his. He gave a hearty “Ho, Ho, Ho”, and before long tears began running down his bright red cheeks. We sat there, hoping the breeze from the sea would pick up. The wife came out the door, “Who are you talking t……..Oh my God.” She turned and slammed the door behind her. Santa’s laugh turned into “Hee, Hee, Hee, Hoo, Hoo, Hoo’s”. Soon he was laughing so hard his belly bounced like a bowl full of jelly, so hard, in fact, that the wicker’s legs folded up under him. He fell with a crash to the porch floor, knocking over the pitcher of martini’s which spilled over his face.

    I jumped up thinking that I had killed Santa, and ran to his side. He laid there quiet, eyes closed, his red cheeks turning pale. Kneeling beside him I picked up his hand to feel for a pulse, his eyes popped open, he winked at me and with another “ho, ho, ho” he kick jumped to his feet. It was what happened next that made my day, Santa, in his exercise shorts moon walked to the front door. He knocked and when the wife answered, he took her hand, “Beautiful, may I have this dance?” Latin music started playing from a Victrola that appeared in the corner of the porch. What a sight, Beautiful and Santa doing a salsa across the floor. I yelled at him, “Remember what the last salsa did to you.” With that, he took a bow.

    With a rose between his teeth he gathered up his suit, “Rudolph is calling, I must go”, and with that he jumped up to the roof. As he flew away I could hear him say, “Happy Martini’s to all and to all a good life.”

  4. Yep, stinky! So glad Beautiful could make an appearance in your story!

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