Hey, Santa! It’s been awhile.
Well, yeah. I thought you would appreciate a whole summer without me bugging you. Don’t you just love me for that?
Well, uh, no, Santa. I realize your busy season is starting. After all, it is like a 103 days till Christmas Eve, right?
Oh, sorry. No! Don’t panic! Wait. What do you mean you thought you had over two hundred days left? Have you been digging into the Reindeer medicine again?
Like I told you before. That is for times when you can just kick back. Not now! What would Mrs. Claus say?
*snort* Really? She did that? Poor elf. He will never be the same again. I mean, she isn’t exactly a small woman and he is rather tiny. Did he have to have stitches?
You don’t say.
Yeah, wow. I never realized Holiday people had their own insurance. I’m not sure, Santa. Q Pid does not sound like a good name for an insurance company. No, it doesn’t. Seriously. Do they shoot everyone in the ass when something goes wrong? Ha Ha! What? That was funny.
Well, now, back to the reason I contacted you – not that I don’t normally contact you. Well…Yeah, but…I know, but… Santa! I didn’t want to bug you! Seriously. And it isn’t like I want to bug you now, you know.
But Christmas Eve is only 103 nights away and I really, really, really want that gift. Yes, that was three reallys. Get over it.
No! I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Well, I kinda did, but Santa, this is an important gift. A HUGE one.
Are you sure you can handle it by yourself?
Wait… Santa? Are you still there? SANTA!
Ah-oh. I think he hung up on me. That does not bode well for me. I bet the homemade limoncello won’t work this time.
What do you get for the man who can make anything appear? And more importantly, how do I get back on the good girl list?