Out Clutter! Out Jumble! Out Smelly Old Trunks!
On Clean-Up! On Sweep-Out! Away With the Junk!
What if Santa Came for Grown-Ups?
Well, for one thing, he wouldn’t land on the roof! Do you know what roofs cost? We had ours re-shingled a couple of years ago and… “skyway robbery” is what I call it. No thanks to an overloaded sleigh and eight sets of sharp, pointy hooves busting through my rafters.
Although Santa is welcome to come down our chimney. We’ve been meaning to have it cleaned.
Santa-for-Grown-Ups also wouldn’t arrive in the middle of the night, setting off our ADT burglar alarm and causing the Neighborhood Watch to panic and the old lady next door to call 911. Jolly Saint Nick won’t be so jolly in a standoff with a state police SWAT team.
Speaking of guns, according to the fish and game regulations where I live, deer season (which presumably includes flying reindeer) runs through December 28. Santa would be facing not only tear gas and flash grenades but also a bunch of guys up in tree stands wearing camouflage and taking aim with .30-06 Remington autoloaders.
Assuming Santa gets here in one piece, we promise not to leave him any milk and cookies. Scotch and a good cigar is what a more mature, more fatherly Father Christmas would prefer – or so this mature father thinks.
What shall we ask for? What gifts would we like “Senior Claus” to bring? (At a civilized hour of the day, such as 3 p.m., with his reindeer having previously visited the “Pet Relief” area at the local airport.)
Santa’s got that big sack. He could fill it with money…
This seems a bit crass – not in the Christmas spirit. (Although, if Christmas spirits are what’s wanted, Santa could always stick a bottle of 30-year-old Glenfiddich into our bag of cash and he and I will share it while we smoke our cigars.)
Christmas isn’t supposed to be a season of boundless greed. Christmas presents should be more thoughtful than mere unthinking moolah. Gifts ought to possess an emotional significance and have a personal meaning.
Meaning, at our house, that we need a new washer and dryer.
Santa isn’t going to bring us these. Santa’s no fool. He’s got a Mrs. Claus at home. He understands how it goes with the gift of “Surprise! A Household Appliance!” I once bought my wife a refrigerator for her birthday. A nice one, too – a Sub-Zero. Men, if you’re reading this, take it from me, don’t buy your wife a refrigerator for her birthday. Or, if you do buy your wife a refrigerator for her birthday, you’d better make sure there’s a string of pearls in the vegetable crisper.
I guess Santa could bring us adult toys. (No, not that kind of “adult toys.” Christmas shopping is bad enough without a “Put the X-Rating Back in X-mas” ad campaign.) I was thinking more along the lines of a 61-foot Bertram Sport Fisherman for me (price: don’t ask), and for my wife, an Alexander McQueen Deep-V Long-Sleeve Ruched Jersey evening gown ($7,950), a pair of Manolo Blahnik Hangisi Satin pumps ($995), and a Gucci Marmont Small Matelassé clutch ($1,980).
But I’m not sure this will make for a Merry Christmas either. My wife is going to be furious when her new dress, shoes, and purse get soaked while we’re out on the Bertram. Plus, we live a long way from the ocean, and I’m not sure that a 61-foot Sport Fisherman will find a warm welcome among the paddle boarders on nearby Squat Pond (three-quarters of an acre).
A real Santa-for-Grown-Ups wouldn’t bring us things – he’d take things away.
Anyway, my wife and I don’t really need more stuff. Like most adults, we have too much stuff already. I’m thinking specifically of what Santa brought me last year – the NordicTrack X22i Incline Trainer treadmill that was going to be the centerpiece of my diet and fitness program… until I accidently notched up its jogging pace to 30 mph and got thrown backwards into the rec-room wall.
Also, the various large pieces of sheetrock left over from the rec-room wall repair.
A real Santa-for-Grown-Ups wouldn’t bring us things – he’d take things away. Starting with the treadmill and pieces of sheetrock…
Thank you in advance, Santa, for loading those on your sleigh. While you’re at it, could you also grab…
• Those Rubbermaid storage containers full of clothes that will fit me again just as soon as I go on my diet and fitness program. (Clothes that I’ve been saving for a long time – many of the pants are bellbottoms.)
• The approximately 1 million tangled wire coat hangers to hang the clothes on when they fit me again.
• That old refrigerator replaced by the Sub-Zero I gave to my wife for her birthday, which I was going to turn into my own private craft-beer cooler (to stay hydrated after vigorous treadmill workouts), but mice got in there first and built a “Mouse Mumbai.”
• The ugly plaid couch with the arm that broke off when it tipped over while I was trying to get it down the cellar stairs. (And where I think the mice had been living before they got into the old refrigerator, because our kids used to hide their uneaten dinner vegetables under the couch cushions.)
• Those snow tires for the Pontiac Grand Safari station wagon that I sold in 1983.
• The Deflated “Moby Dick” inflatable beach toy that caused a trip to the emergency room after I blacked out trying to blow it up because the bicycle pump was broken.
• The broken bicycle pump.
• The set of lawn darts that drunk Uncle Louie sent to the children.
• And let’s not forget those children. Santa-for-Grown-Ups wants them to be happy too. Imagine the wide-eyed pleasure and delight as the tykes come downstairs on Christmas morning to find their parents singing with glee…
“Joy to the world – the basement’s clean!!!”