Issues with the Christmas Visitor

Why Santa Don’t Come Here About ten years ago, on a chilly Christmas Eve, I was roused from my slumber just past midnight. There was something making quite the commotion up on the roof, clattering about wildly. At first, I figured it might be some troublesome squirrels or perhaps a pair of raccoons that had squeezed into the attic, so I turned over to drift back off. But no! My wife wouldn’t stand for any nonsense, telling me to get moving. So I pulled on my jeans, grabbed the shotgun, and headed out into the freezing air to investigate. Keep in mind, I’d been nursing a bottle of Jack earlier that evening, so my vision wasn’t exactly razor-sharp. There I was, irritated, half-dressed, and barefoot, wandering around in the chill, assuming it was just varmints disturbing my sleep. But what I spotted up on the rooftop definitely cleared me right up. A portly fellow was stomping about atop my house. To add to the oddity, he had somehow managed to get this peculiar little pickup truck onto the roof as well. And to top it all off, he was herding along a small group of strangely shaped deer. They must have traveled quite a distance because they certainly weren’t the White Tails we’re used to seeing in these parts. Since it’s currently deer season and I still had both my tags handy, I did what any sensible hunter would do: I took down the lead buck! This upset our little fat guy immensely. He started jumping around, yelling, and fussing at me. I tried my best to soothe him, but he wouldn’t have it. Eventually, I told him that if you’re going to drive a herd of deer across Texas during hunting season, you’d better expect to lose a couple. Around then, the lights next door flickered on, and I advised the little fellow he had best be getting out of there before Bubba or Billy Bob came outside and decided to thin his herd even further. To urge him along, I fired another burst of buckshot over his head. That did the trick; he hopped into that quirky pickup truck so quickly that he lost his hat in the process. Before long, he was off into the sky with those deer, looking just like a scene from ‘Back to the Future’. Later on, I worked out what had happened and identified the little guy. And there you have it—why Santa doesn’t pay me another visit! P.S. I wear that hat every year around this time in hopes he’ll return for it. I’d really love to tell the little fella how sorry I am.