All I want for Christmas

Dear Santa,

I know this is your busy time, and you're probably rushing around trying to get everything ready and loaded up for Thursday, so I'll just get right to the point. I think we have a problem:

Let me begin by saying that I completely support your objective. As an inherently good little boy, (seeing the "Carthage" post for what it really was, just a bad day, rather than the bad seed image mommy has tried to portray), I can understand, and certainly appreciate, the need to reward all the good children with gifts. Further, as my father's son, I am not opposed to gifts at all times, every day of the year. That being said, I find your methods to be a little disturbing. And while I realize it's strange for me to have been working as your Elf, and checking your list for you and all (see previous post), I guess I'm just now realizing what exactly it is that you do.

I'll just say that quite frankly, I'm a little disappointed in mommy. The above photo was attempt three at placing me in your lap for what she describes as a happy, festive, holiday photo. Does that look happy and festive to you? The first two attempts actually had me in Christmas attire, but my face was approximately the color of a sugar plum you might see dancing in my head, I was screaming, and attempting to spring from your lap like a cat. I mean what is UP with all that facial hair, man? In any case, I would have thought Mommy would understand my feelings. But somewhere along the lines, Mommy became one of your little minions. I'm sure you remember my Mommy, perhaps from the year 1977:

Or maybe 1978:

1979, perhaps?

It wasn't until sometime after that that Mommy started to believe it was acceptable for a fat old man to enter your home while you sleep, eat your cookies, drink your milk, and in return leave you gifts. I don't know what they call that up at the North Pole, but around here it's called breaking and entering, and it carries a pretty stiff jail sentence.

I was feeling rather secure because we don't have a chimney, so I figured there was no way for you to get in. Then I saw the movie The Santa Clause, and I realized that you had some sort of magical powers that allowed you to create a chimney on any old roof. You can see my concern with this. Daddy and Mommy spend a good amount of money each month on a home security system for our house, and apparently you can just bypass this and come right on in. Can you imagine the problems if this magic got out to the general public? And let's face it, while Amos is a big, imposing beast, if your belly really is like a bowl full of jelly, he's more likely to lick you than scare you off. Additionally, I've been getting the impression that Amos wouldn't mind joining your team.

I've read that you also smoke a pipe. Do you ever watch the news? Read the paper? Look on the internet? Do you know how bad smoking is for you? Not to mention, having all that smoke encircling your head like a wreath in MY home isn't so good for my tiny lungs. And mommy has really bad allergies, so it's not just me we're talking about here. Second hand smoke is a killer, Santa. And I would think that someone with such alleged goodwill would understand that, and curb the habit for the children's sake. I'm just saying. . . .
I do think a compromise can be worked out between us though. Instead of coming into my house, what say you just leave the gifts on the back porch? That way you wouldn't even have to worry about landing on the roof, making a chimney out of nothing, possibly falling off. I mean the whole thing just reeks of danger if you ask me. Just walk up the driveway, put a few things on the porch, and come morning light, mommy or daddy can go fetch them for me, and I'll unwrap them happily. You'll be able to spread good cheer, and I won't have to worry about a creepy old man in my house while I sleep. I think this is a compromise we can all live with.

So go ahead and spring to your sleigh, and give your team a whistle. You can all fly away, like the down of a thistle. But do me a favor and stay out of my sight. Then it will be a happy Christmas to all, and to Thomas, A Good Night!

Merry Christmas to all The Tessier Family Blog followers.

Love, Thomas, Drew, Sacha and Amos.