I Had A Visit With Santa To Give Him A Piece Of My Mind

Then he gave me a piece of his

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The other day I went to the mall to see Santa. I had a beef with him, and I was determined to straighten it out — straighten him out.

I’ve written clear, explicit letters to him every year, stating precisely what I want for Christmas. I put a seasonal-themed postage stamp on the upper right corner of the envelope and send it off, each year, certain it’ll be different, that he’ll finally bring me what I want. But what does he do? Deposit haphazardly wrapped sports socks or a box of my favorite tea with a wrinkled bow on top.

I’m not here to complain about the condition of the wrapping paper. I’m here to state for the record that I want him to give me what I want to get. What do I want to get? Well, if you were Santa, you would know. He has all the letters. Here’s last year’s:

Dear Santa,

I hope this letter finds you well. Let’s get straight to the point. This Christmas, I would like to get world peace, inner calm, and more time for the things I need to accomplish.

Tell Rudolph I said hi.

Fondly, but seriously,

Stephanie

To my eyes, that letter laid out my Christmas wish list with little room for elven confusion. But what did I find under the tree last year? A candy cane imprinted gift bag filled with office supplies.

You can see the beef I have with Santa. I got in my car, drove to the local mall, walked straight to the Santa hoopla, and got in line.

Oddly, I was the tallest one there. Everyone else was, give or take, up to my hip. Good for them, I thought. They’re getting a head start on their dreams. I waited until now to finally have a face-to-face with the guy who decides my future. Glancing at my shorter peers in that line, I felt like a giant procrastinator.

But, as they say, it’s never too late.

Once it was my turn, the lady in charge of escorting people over to The Man looked at me.

“Where’s your child?”

What did she mean, ‘your child’? I have two.

“They’re at work designing interface systems for semiconductor chips.”

She squinted at me — confused or irritated, I wasn’t sure, but I continued.

“I’m here to see Santa, not them, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

She blinked, then burst out laughing.

“Ohhh! I get it. That’s great. You can absolutely see Santa. He’ll be delighted.”

I was glad to hear he’d be delighted because I wasn’t. The lady escorted me to the guy in the red suit sitting in the throne-like chair. I stood in front of him and gave a little perturbed wave.

“Hi.”

He looked amused.

“What do we have here? An older child is here to see me. Tell me, what can I do for you? Would you like to have a seat?” He pointed to his lap. I cringed.

“Uh, no. But I’ll take one of those folding chairs.” I pointed to a chair nearby. The lady looked at me, then Santa, then slid the chair over for me to sit. I sat.

“Look, Santa, I want to know what you plan to leave under the tree this year. For once in my life, I’d like to know ahead of time what my future holds. Last year, I asked for world peace, inner peace, and more time, but all you left me were decorative pencils.”

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Now, let’s pause this story — not for a note from our sponsor (because who would sponsor this?) but for a question I’ll put out to the room. Would a jolly fellow in a suit with fur trim know any more about what the future holds than anyone else on the planet?

I’ll answer that: no.

Back to the story.

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“Now, ma’am — shall I call you ma’am?”

“Call me lady, as in ‘Look, lady, I’ll give you anything you ask for’.”

“Look, Lady — ”

“No, “lady”. Don’t make it a proper noun.”

“Look, lady, I’m not in charge of world peace or inner peace. I have nothing to do with time allotment. Don’t you remember when you were eight? I’m in charge of dolls and toy cars — or I was. These days, it’s iPads and Squishmallows.”

“But, Santa, everyone knows that if we write you a letter before Christmas, you’ll adhere to our wish list — or so the theory goes. I can’t say it’s ever happened to me.” I tapped my foot in huffy impatience. Santa looked at me in exasperation, as if, How could this woman be so ill-informed?

“Ma’am — lady — first, I think you’re conflating what you’re in charge of, what others are, and what I am. Second, it would be impossible to train elves to negotiate world peace. They’re too obsessed with garden gnome YouTube shorts. I don’t think they have the attention span.”

I considered what he said. “Tell me more — about being in charge.”

Santa repositioned himself on the throne.

“Well, they talk about our circle of influence and control, and I adhere to this wholeheartedly, because it tells me where my effort and attention are best directed. This reduces so much background noise in my brain that it makes creating my future easier and my day lighter.”

“Pardon me, Santa. What the heck are you talking about? I thought your wheelhouse was chimney logistics?”

“Not so, lady. Any of us who follow our dreams need to downsize assumptions in our minds to create the most effective thought space to devote to what we need to do. It’s fundamental to following our dreams with happiness and efficiency. If I were to give you anything along the lines of what you say you want, it would be this advice.”

We looked at each other in silence, Santa waiting, me processing.

It made sense, what he said. World peace was out of my realm. Time was a fixed commodity. This left inner peace, which was within my control, not anyone else’s. It made sense that inner peace could be found under the tree this year as soon as I rummaged through my mind and ditched what I didn’t need. This jolly one was wise.

“Santa, thank you. I know downsizing my brain is a good thing, but I don’t practice it as often as I could. I guess I could work on that.”

Santa nodded, sitting tilted in his throne. “We all could, lady.”

“You can call me Lady.”

“Okay, Lady. And Merry Christmas to you. Now, do you have a wish list for me? I suspect you don’t need more office supplies.”

He had a point.

“Let’s go with Bengal spice tea.”

“On it.”

I gave a proper bow and waved goodbye to the jolly man on the throne. Then I walked through the mall to see if I could find Post-it notes in a color I don’t own, which would be possible if a new color had been discovered on the light spectrum.

I do love me some office supplies.

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Have a lovely week, friends.