Not you, real Santa in the North Pole with the elf army and whatnot. And not you, shopping mall Santa, whom, as I just explained to my kids, is not real Santa but one of an army of lookalikes he sends to do his bidding. Like real Santa has time to go to the Pheasant Lane food court in mid-December, guys! We’ve talked about this. This isn’t about you. (Although, real Santa, if you’re reading this: George wants you to know he wants Scotch tape, Post-Its, and paper, so maybe just send an Elf to Staples. And Hazy wants a baby sister, but don’t get any ideas.)
This letter is to this jerk:
Advent calendar Santa, I rue the day we met. I don’t even remember how we got you. Was this Oma’s doing? Regardless, every November 30th, I realize I have to somehow find 24 teeny tiny treasures to fit in your surprisingly minuscule boxes. Sure, I could just do candy, but we’re still going through our Halloween candy, and guess who ends up eating all the extras and looking a little, shall we say jollier, than she’d like to?
We’ve learned the hard way that the following items don’t fit in the G-D boxes: silly putty, Chapstick, Eos lip balm, small ornaments, tiny bags of Lego mini figures, mini pens or markers,a mini notepad, a yo-yo, anything from the Target $1 aisle. So now I’ve taken to shopping with one of the empty boxes stuffed in my purse, so I can test if things will fit, like I’m Prince Charming’s footman trying to fit the glass slipper on a thousand ugly stepsisters. One year I found some dollhouse accessories that fit and it was like Christmas morning (or some alternate universe Christmas morning where I’m not exhausted from playing, ironically, you, for 24 days because of your sorry existence).
Why couldn’t you be a cheap disposable advent calendar like the other advent calendars? Why couldn’t you have made your boxes big enough to fit normal toys that normal people could find at a normal store? What is stopping me from coating you in peanut butter and leaving you in Rosie’s crate as the ultimate gift for both her and me? No, seriously, what is stopping me? I could pretend it was an accident.
It’s 7:59 on November 30th, and I still haven’t gotten anything for you. But there you are. Let’s hope CVS has created a new aisle called Microscopic Holiday Gifts; otherwise the December 1st box is gonna have a doll handful of stale Teddy Grahams in it and December 2nd’s will have a paper clip that I’ve painted to look like a cute hair barrette.