Paul and I were talking about what to do for a Christmas tree this year. I’m perfectly happy with a fake that can be stored for the majority of the year, but Paul has his own ideas. He wants to place our christmas gifts around a 6 1/2 foot tall Santa. I’m simultaneously amused and freaked out by the notion. First off it’s definitely different than anything I’ve ever considered doing or seen anyone else do. It also has the added benefit of me being able to tell small children that Paul shot and stuffed Santa when he came down our chimney last year … and so Christmas is cancelled indefinitely. (Yes, I’m one of those mean people who tell kids there is no Easter Bunny; that it’s just some guy in a suit.)
The only thing that I don’t particularly like about having an enormous Santa in the living room is the gnawing certainty that it will either give me regular nightmares or shorten my lifespan with an occasional heart attack brought on by the sheer terror of a jolly red man lurking by the hearth.