So, I was talking to my mom about how my niece was terrified of Santa when she was two and at the same time I was also listening to the most recent episode of VoxPopcast(cheap plug, go subscribe to my podcast) where Jessie Sage mentioned that she was afraid of Santa as a kid and Natalie R. Sheppard said “everyone should be” and I got to thinking about the concept of Santa Claus.
And I realized … no one actually likes Santa… Everyone fucking hates Santa. Santa fucking sucks…
So think about it…
When you’re a baby, you’re terrified of Santa for at least the couple years because he’s a stranger and he’s funny looking. Then you have maybe five or six good years where he rocks. Magical fat guy that brings you toys and all you have to give him in return is a couple cookies and maybe a glass of milk, that your parents actually pay for. It’s a pretty good deal. Then you realize he’s not really and you have to put up with four to five years of just being fucking over it but dealing with anyway it because your parents think it’s cute to take pictures of you at thirteen sitting on some wino’s lap who is trying to earn booze money and you have to humor younger siblings who still believe all the while dreading that somehow the cute girl who sits behind you in seventh grade Spanish class and that you really want to get to second base with (whatever that means) is going to be walking through the mall right now and your life will be ruined… Finally, you get to the point where your parents let you off the hook and you get a blissful decade or two of not caring about Santa at all… But THEN, if you have kids, you have to deal with the whole fucking cycle again from the other side, where you stay up all night assembling toys from a fictional character to give to your children so that you can bribe them into loving you so they feel guilty enough to not put you in a home when you get old.
That really… I think the majority of the time you have to deal with Santa is just straight up hating him.
So… why do we do it? What I’m thinking is, maybe everyone’s life would just be simpler if when you were two years old you just said to your parents “look… the creepy drunk in the fat suit is fucking weird. Don’t put me on his lap. Just give me cash now and I’ll maybe take care of you when you’re old.”
By the way… if you’re wondering… yes… the picture that accompanies this post IS in fact ME giving Santa Claus a DDT in a wrestling ring. Because I have lived a life that many men have only laid in bed and dreamed about night after night!