It's late (or early, depending on how you look at it) on the morning of Dec. 25 and Santa Claus may have finished his work for another year, but like many men, he has come home from the office to find a note from the missus: "Nicky: sorry I couldn't wait up. I left a pitcher of mojitos on the kitchen counter.
I was up late on the phone with your mom, who still can't understand why we never spend Christmas with her and your dad. Hello??? Does she even know what you do for a living? You did tell her you quit law school?
You did, right?
We had another note from the neighbors about the smell from the reindeer poop. Isn't there an elf in charge of that?
Speaking of which, you got another notice from the National Labor Relations Board; there's another grievance filed about overtime. I told you that that Herbie kid was trouble; you never should have let him get elected shop steward.
Got a call from the school; Comet and Blitzen have gotten detention again for bullying, so I certainly hope you didn't take them out for ice cream this morning. The message said something about excluding the other kids from any of the reindeer games. And name-calling, they want to see both of us at the principal's office and no, you cannot get out of it by claiming you have to work. They're on to your schedule.
The "Check Engine" light came on in the mini-sleigh yesterday morning and yes, I did tighten the gas cap this time like you showed me. IT'S NOT MY FAULT.
Did you catch any news while you were out? That PETA chick, Pamela Idon'tknowherlastname tweeted a link to a song called "Santa got run over by his reindeer." I re-tweeted it for you; it's hysterical. Don't play it near Vixen and Donner, though; might give ‘em ideas.
First thing Monday you're going to have to call the assessor's office. Our property values have gone up again! And no, you're not imagining it; it is the third year in a row. Of all things, they're blaming global warming...muttered some gobbledygook about ‘shrinking land mass driving up the value of the remaining property.' Are you sure we can't relocate this whole thing to Hawaii?
For the last time: will you please make sure the people from Child Protective Services understand that they're ELVES, not children?
Your wellness coach from Mayo e-mailed to remind you to eat the carrots left out for Rudolph, and to give Rudolph the cookies. Her exact words: "Rudolph doesn't have a blood sugar problem." I don't suppose there's any chance you actually did any of that???
Conrad Green called again about getting you on Dancing With the Stars. They're thinking of having you compete against the Easter Bunny and the San Diego Chicken but I told him it wasn't dignified.
Hugo Chavez and Kim Jong-Il are still IM'ing you repeatedly. Please let them know that if they keep that up they're never getting off the naughty list.
And honey? You do know that I can see TMZ up here and see all those pictures of Kim Kardashian sitting on your lap?
We need to talk."
Ahwatukee Foothills resident Elizabeth Evans can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. Her column appears monthly.