Well that’s just great.
Set aside for the moment the inherent creepiness of that idea – Billy Bob Thornton in a red velvet suit window peeping on a middle-aged woman.
Hey! I could be middle-aged! What with modern science and life expectancies extended every year, 126 isn’t so unrealistic, is it?
Set it aside. Santa’s not the National Security Administration after all. Or, maybe he is more like the NSA that we want to believe. The NSA’s benign, right? Only checking in to see if we have been bad. Totally disinterested if we have been good. Right.
Yep, that’s it. The NSA is just keeping us on our Goody Two Shoes’ toes. Like Santa.
So, if Santa sees a middle-aged woman sleeping with her mouth open, just as an example, she wouldn’t get demerits for that, would she?
Santa would still remember her modest Christmas wishes. He would not be so grossed out that he crossed her off his list, would he? Would he??
And why is it that only little kids sleep with their mouths closed, anyway? They already have a leg up at the Bureau of the Cute and Adorable. It is only in the autumn of one’s years that one’s chin relaxes, sags and ultimately lets go, only perfunctorily guarding one’s uvula. We are the ones who need special consideration!
But surely Santa overlooks mouth breathing. Surely. He still knows she’s a good girl. A dry tongue wouldn’t put him off, would it? Everyone loves a parakeet!
And this whole thing with drool – again, endearing in the little ones, but for the rest of us, a sad soggy scenario, not appealing to Santa I fear.
And how does that phenomenon play itself out anyway? Does a person just drool herself all the way to a dry mouth? It is out of her control, you know. She’s being judged while she SLEEPS!
And still watching when I’m awake? Relentless! And utterly unfair. How can a person bear up under this kind of scrutiny?
OK, I am mostly nice. That counts for something, doesn’t it?
I mean honestly, who doesn’t take the cream cheese frosting out of another lady’s shopping cart on occasion? That’s not truly naughty! I spent MINUTES scanning the shelves for it to no avail.
Geez! Where’s the harm? She found it the first time; she’ll find it again! Come on Santa! Cut a girl a break!
And the way I see it, I contributed to the greater good when I sat through a second green light after that mean man behind me honked so rudely and said unkind things when I absentmindedly sat through the first green light. I’m sure he came away feeling philosophical. I helped him understand that rushing through life robs it of its joy. He must surely have paid it forward!
I am wondering what your perspective is on things like this. I mean, what is your method of calculation on the good-bad spectrum? Are there baskets or goalposts, points of any kind? It is not so clear cut! Shades of gray, Santa! You have to inject some subjectivity!
I think those spontaneous acts of charity in traffic count for more than the fake ones everyone else points to this time of year. So what if you are tripping around doing “random acts of kindness”? Whoopti-frickin’-do!
Let’s just cut to the chase on this thing: You have the goodies and I want ‘em.
I have made a good faith effort not to W. C. Fields it all over town. That is to say I kept most of my cantankerousness to myself. Anything you heard to the contrary was an unintentional burst of irritability brought on by all those perfect little people who are so annoying to the rest of us. Don’t believe everything you hear Santa. Everyone has an agenda.
So let loose with the largesse Santa Baby, or I alert the NSA to your brand of terrorism – nighttime peeping and list-keeping and playing of favorites! I haven’t lived this many years to be cut out of the booty!
That’s right. Two can play at this game. When I’m good, I’m very good. But when I’m bad…make a note of it.