Santa shenanigans!
It was about fifteen years or more ago when I told my kids of my relationship with Santa.

"Yeah, I know him. I used to go to school not too far from him when I was studying forestry. Remember I told you that I used to work with race horses? Well, reindeer aren't that much different. I used to help Santa take care of them."

They listened, eyes the size of saucers as I described hanging out with the elves and watching them make toys or having dinner with the big man himself. I used to warn them, "You'd better behave or Santa's gonna go to the reindeer stalls to fill your stockings!"

I used to revel in the howls that would arise.

So on Christmas Eve, after a final warning about reindeer poop, I finally got them to sleep. I put the usual toys and candy in the stockings, then pulled out the piece de resistance: a box of Raisinets. I dumped chocolate covered raisins in each stocking, then headed to bed with many a chuckle.

Christmas Day they woke us up at some ungodly hour, and I stumbled down the stairs with their comatose mother to blearily watch them rip into their stockings. They pulled out candies and toys, and then my oldest held up a brown lump. "Dad, what's this?"

"I told you not to fight with your brother the other night, didn't I?"

"EEEEEEEEWWWW!" The thing was flung across the room. (The dog was happy to clean up.)

I chuckled to myself and went to the kitchen to make coffee. As I listened to the coffee pot make obscene noises my oldest came racing into the kitchen. "Dad! You gotta come quick!"

"What?"

"He's eating reindeer poop!" And he dragged me to the living room where his younger brother was happily eating Raisinets.

This has been a treasured memory ever since. (Well, by me, anyway...)
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Sun 28 Nov 2010, 3:52, 1 reply)

I told this to my mom
and she actually sputtered with giggles. Click!
(Ejaculantern was caught desecrating pumpkins on, Thu 2 Dec 2010, 8:49, closed)