Yes, Ryan, There Is A Santy Claus®
Today in a holiday edition of “Ask an Internet Patrolman,” lifelong Santaphile Ryan Steve Crest of Dunwoody USA queries: “Dear Constable Dooley, Is there really a Santa Claus? I asked my Mom and Dad and their answer was weird! Mom wrote this dumb letter that said Santa is a magician or a teacher and he doesn’t even live at the North Pole! Then she shared the letter with thousands of her friends on Facebook. Facebook is stupid! Sincerely, Ryan.” Dear Ryan: I think you mean, “Sincerely pissed off” and I don’t bloody blame you, lad. Frankly, your parent’s letter set my teeth on edge. First Mum says they “are not Santa,” but then confirms that they “fill your stocking and wrap the presents under the tree.” So—what?—Mum and Dad are elves? ‘Tis confounding. And this notion that there’s “not one, single Santa,” but rather “lots and lots of Santas,” might’ve made sense if they were referencing department store Santas, who everyone knows aren’t the real thing, but rather, understudies working a second job for the retail discount. But when Mum’s letter posits that Santa is “love and magic,” it became crystalline to me clear that Mum and Dad, despite their best of intentions, are “hipster dipshits.” Launching your letter ‘round the Twitternet for other sensitive sorts to fawn over is further evidence of their wrong-headedness. Alas, don’t let it trouble you or resentment will build and you’ll soon be piercing your eyelids and drinking cough syrup for breakfast and wind up on that godforsaken Intervention show. Not on my watch! The good news is: YES, RYAN, THERE IS A SANTY CLAUS and on Christmas Eve, he loads his sleigh and flies through the air, delivering presents to good lil’ 11-year-old believers like you ‘round the world— excepting the Mennonites whose mums hand-fashion dollies for the girls, whilst the bearded young lads get lumps of coal to heat those portable Amish heaters you see advertised. So go right on believing, Ryan; have the best Christmas ever and if you catch Daddy pinching Mummy’s arse under the mistletoe, understand that even hipster parents deserve love. Yours Truly, Constable Dooley.
