If Wishes Were Dishes ...

... my sink would be full.


Let's lighten this up a bit before I decide who's cornflakes to piss on in the upcoming year.


Being mistaken for Santa is quite common with me and as the years have caused gravity to adjust my waist line and this wonderful fresh air to change the color of my hair I go with the flow. At a recent spousal related Christmas festivity, I of course wore my best Red shirt and held court in the corner of the room and yes I sat in a very large chair.
As the festivities began to loosen up a bit the Santa comparisons began and I was asked when I would allow the guests to give me their Christmas lists. I told them that we could commence as soon as I was in possession of their credit cards so that Santa could fulfill all their Christmas wishes. We had a wonderful laugh and enjoyed the rest of the evening.


At a recent visit to one of the area pie hole filling stations, we were escorted to our table by our hostess and I noticed a few small children in attendance with their families. I have grown accustomed to the looks from these wee people and usually wave or say hi if they are within ear shot and they giggle or become extremely shy. As I and the wife looked over our menus a small body of energy came running up and asked me with the most innocent voice, "Are you Santa". Now in my experience saying yes would be a non truth and would damn me to hell but writing this blog in the manner that it is written, has in all likelihood solidified that reservation so I said "Yes".


The child's mother came running up in horror, that her rug rat was bothering me and as she approached I held up my hand for her to stop. I asked the ball of energy his name and was told "I'm Mathew", he then quickly asked why I wasn't at the North Pole. Well I can't resist a chance to instill just a bit of fear in people especially little people.


I looked Mathew in the eye and in a voice that was just loud enough so his mom could hear ( okay the whole room heard it), I told him I came to check on him to make sure he was being a good boy. He said he was a good boy all year and as he stated this, out of the corner of my I saw his mom nodding in agreement. I reached out my hand to shake his and told him I noticed this and asked him to do me a favor. I asked him to give his mom a hug and a kiss and listen to her and tell her he loved her everyday.


As I looked around several rather damp eyes were seen as were his mother's who quietly thanked me as she picked him up to return to their table. Mathew exclaimed his love for his mother and hugged her several times by the time they got to there.


I never did get a bill for that meal.


Yes I know its not Car Hobby related. Deal with it.


May your Christmas be joyous and blessed


MERRY CHRISTMAS.