More Things Your Mall Santa Won’t Tell You

I’ve noticed a lot of you have started telling your kids the truth about me a lot younger than you used to. Sometimes you spoil things before your child even asks the question, just because you’re worried he’ll hear it from someone else. Please stop.

1. I’m not an orthodontist, either. Don’t ask me to tell your child why she needs to stop sucking her thumb.

2. Nobody’s facial hair curls like this naturally.” That’s why they invented curling irons and got2b Glued Styling Spiking Glue.

3. You’re ruining the fun. I’ve noticed a lot of you have started telling your kids the truth about me a lot younger than you used to. Sometimes you spoil things before your child even asks the question, just because you’re worried he’ll hear it from someone else. Please stop.


4. Shhhhh, don’t tell… But a few of us are Jewish.

5. Santa’s family almost never gets to spend the holiday with him on Dec. 25. Most of us schedule a delayed celebration for early January.

6. Being Santa can be…complicated. When my daughter was in grade school, the teacher requested a conference to discuss some issues: “She’s under the firm belief that you are Santa Claus.”

7. I’m not a puppy. So please don’t pet me like one.

8. Very few of us do this full time. We’re truck drivers and salesmen, engineers and schoolteachers. Lots of us are retired.

9. It’s hard not to sweat in our heavy wool suits. To make sure we smell nice, some of us sprinkle baby powder in our beards; others use evergreen-scented colognes and sprays. And we’re always sucking on breath mints.

10. Think your child’s request is over-the-top? I’ve been asked for giraffes, pigs, and elephants, for visits from Hannah Montana and Elmo, even for a cookbook for mom because she’s not a good cook.

11. Speaking of good hygiene… Please take your barely potty-trained two-year-old to the restroom before you get in line. Soil my suit, and it’s coal for you, buster.

12. I love the kids, but my favorites are the little old ladies in nursing homes. When they sit on my lap (which they love to do!), they turn into kids themselves, and their favorite Christmas memories come pouring out.

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Originally Published in Reader's Digest