Sometime around 2nd grade, as the class sang “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” and Mrs. Hawthorne put me in timeout for adding the lyrics “No, he isn’t! No, he isn’t!”, I officially realized I was what some would call a Christmas visionary—a savant, if you will.
I never believed in Santa. Why? He didn’t make sense. The whole concept was entirely implausible and I, man of wisdom that I was at age 8, had compassion on my simple-minded classmates.
I wanted to let them in on the fact that they were the butt of a huge joke, blind to a major conspiracy! I will assure you it was purely motivated out of love and compassion. Though my friends’ parents were far less focused than mine were about emphasizing Jesus as the reason for the season, this caused me no jealousy whatsoever. Should I be considered for sainthood soon, you’ll know why.
My future children will certainly be as perceptive as I was at that age and probably entirely too thankful that they’ll get to call me “Daddy” to even care about receiving gifts. However, just in case we decide to introduce them to the Santa Claus hoax, I already have a plan to make him much more believable.
First, let’s examine the problem: Kids aren’t as dumb as they used to be.
If nothing else, Google has assured us of that. With a new generation of youngsters, the Big Guy needs an image change. Here’s why:
1. Appearance
I sell health insurance for a living, and I have a hard time believing Santa doesn’t have Type 2 diabetes. He’s old, hefty, and eats more cookies than the Keebler elves. (Elves who make cookies in trees, but that’s a whole different issue.) I have to think he’s crushing Lipitor in his cereal every morning. Besides, what kind of mixed messages are we sending to kids by telling them not to take candy from well-mannered strangers and then turn around and sell them on accepting presents from a guy with a biker gang mega-beard who’s going to shimmy down their chimney in the middle of the night? Sign up for some Crossfit classes and switch to reduced fat cookies, S.C., then maybe we’ll talk.
2. Attire
Speaking of mixed messages, when was the last time you saw a guy in giant black boots and baggy red pajamas tromping around in public and said to yourself, “Now that’s a good look”? Any guy dressed in that hot mess requesting permission to set Brandon, Jr. on his knee is getting slapped with a restraining order. I think it’s time we admit that, along with a fairy who is obsessed with collecting teeth and a bunny rabbit that apparently runs a chicken trafficking network to possess so many eggs, the old dude in the giant red pajamas is socially awkward at best.
3. Everything Else
Set aside the fact that he has a flying sleigh and reindeer, it’s surprising we’re not all eating venison every Christmas when Santa and his crew attempt to navigate the night skies with only a tiny, glowing red nose as his headlight. That’s a crash landing waiting to happen. You think Mrs. Claus would be down with her hubby getting to spend all night once a year sneaking into people’s homes while she sits at home and knits? Doubt it. Should we even address the fact that we put this Santa character on a pedestal, a character who teaches our kids a limited vocabulary centered on publicly yelling out, “HO! HO! HO!”?
Obviously, there are a lot of holes in this lie. If we’re going to deceive the kids, let’s at least do it right and make it believable.
Therefore, I have a solution:
Ninja Santa.
With Ninja Santa, there is no longer need for the Elf on the Shelf to assure children behave.
“Kids, if you don’t get along, Ninja Santa isn’t going to bring you presents this year…and he’ll cut you.”
Ninja Santa doesn’t need a chimney. He gets in. He gets out. He moves on.
“Daddy, how does Ninja Santa go all over the world in one night?”
“Honey, don’t be silly. He’s a ninja. Let’s watch another episode of Walker, Texas Ranger and maybe you’ll get it.”
He’s stealth. He’s mysterious. He doesn’t talk. He’s not a creepy old man posted up in a rocking chair next to the Orange Julius in the mall waiting for dozens of small children to sit in his lap.
He’s Ninja Santa.
“I don’t care if it’s still light outside. Go to bed before you make him angry.”
Problem solved.
Photo credit: armadillo444
