I should be drying dishes.

But I just saw Santa in my basement. No shit. The big guy in red was down there in the wood room. I caught him sneaking a peek at the poster of Jenna Jameson and licking his lips. He didn’t get to ogle the calendar of Stormy Daniels. I caught him before that point.

But now that I think about it, that calendar was set to June, when Stormy was pouring herself a glass of milk and missed and made a big ol’ mess on her breasts. Silly Stormy. So maybe I didn’t catch him in time, after all.

Regardless, Santa was hanging out in my basement wood/furnace room. Just when I thought I didn’t need a visit from him after all.

“Hey Sugar”, said Santa. “I’m just checking out this mess of gifts on the floor. You need to spend less time moaning into the phone and more time getting your shit together. Less than three weeks, Babe.”

I opened my mouth, ready to protest that Don and I barely ever have phone sex any more but before I could, Santa chuckled and said,

“The songs don’t lie, Babe. I do know if you’ve been naughty or nice. Thankfully for you, however, I prefer naughty.”

And then he laughed. Hard. And patted me on the back. Hard.

I decided to change the subject.

“What are you doing here, anyway, Santa? I mean, I think I’ve got a pretty good handle on things this year.”

I watched him light a cigarette, inhale deeply and then exhale as he scanned the floor once again.

“You’re short two each for the girls, you know.”

I nodded. “I know”, I said. I had counted and made a list earlier in the morning.

Santa’s expression softened a bit.

“But other than that, it’s looking real good, kiddo.”

I smiled and looked up at him. For those of you not yet blessed with a visit from the Big Guy in Red, I’ll let you in on a little secret. The guy’s huge.

“So, um, why are you here, then Santa?” I hesitantly asked again. I’ll let you in on another little Santa secret. He’s kind of short tempered.

“Well, for one thing, I haven’t yet been thanked for your gift last year! I’ve been waiting almost 365 goddamned days! And nothing!”

I racked my brain, trying to remember what exactly Santa had brought for me last year. I couldn’t think of anything and that’s when I realized that the big guy was wrong! For once, Santa Claus was fucking wrong! Maybe he’s losing his touch or maybe old age is starting to eat away at his once sharp mind because Santa hadn’t brought me a single, fucking thing last year.

I was just about to tell him so when…

Santa threw his cigarette butt down onto the concrete floor and stomped on it hard, crushing it beyond recognition.

“THE BOY!” he shouted.

I felt myself blush a deep shade of red.

“What do you think he came out of fucking box that way? I listened to you. I heard what you asked for. And I brought him, didn’t I? You wanted someone who got it. You wanted someone to listen to you, accept you for who you really are and not be scared of the bullshit. Well, girl! That’s just asking for someone to love you! So that’s what I did. I found the best boy in all of the world for you. And I made sure he loved like no other. And what do I get? Huh? What do I get? A ‘so why are you here, Santa?’ Honestly.”

He lit another cigarette and stared absentmindedly at Jenna’s fishnet clad legs.

“I’m sorry, Santa,” I hedged. “Thank you,” I added.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, kiddo. I know you’re thankful.” He smiled one of his patented Santa Claus smiles and put his arm around me.

I started to nuzzle my head into him before I remembered all too clearly that Santa was fond of wearing just a touch too much aftershave. The smell burned my eyes and I pulled my head away.

“He * is * more than I could ever have asked for,” I said quietly.

I felt Santa’s smile so far up above me.

“I know, Babe. I know. And I’m sorry for snapping at you. It’s just the holidays. You think you’ve got stress! I’ve got all of the kids in the world to shop for AND on top of it, those fucking elves are trying to unionize!”

Santa lit another cigarette and after exhaling, said,

“So what do you want this year?”

I felt my mouth drop open. I wasn’t expecting his question, to say the least and I had literally no idea how to answer.

After thinking about it for a minute or two, I still couldn’t come up with anything. But I really didn’t want Santa to yell at me again.

“I don’t know,” I finally answered.

Last year it was easy. There was so much going wrong in my life and in my world that the list of things I wanted seemed endless at times. It was also easy to ask because I never thought any of it would actually change. I felt trapped and hopeless much of the time. But this year…well, this year I feel differently. I have my moments, sure. More than my fair share, I guess. But overall, I feel hopeful. And excited. And blessed.

“Well, think about it, kiddo. I’d like your list by the end of today. Think it over and I’ll see what I can do. Oh. And Janet? Don’t bother with the pajamas bullshit that you feed to everyone else. I know better than that. Tell me what you really want. You know I deliver miracles.”

I told him I’d think about it and he instructed me to post my list on my blog. Apparently he reads it. Wonders never cease, eh?

Santa left just as quickly as he arrived. I let him take the Jenna Jameson poster. She’s been winking at me from her corner in Rock’s former work room and bugging the shit out of me for too long as it is. It was time for her to go. And something tells me she’ll be put to good use…

To be continued…