Santa is a Jerk...

Santa is a Jerk...

             When I was twelve, I was really into the Pokemon series. I would even embarrass my brothers by dressing myself in the height of Pokemon fashion. More than once, I managed to turn their face beat red. So naturally, when it came to Christmas, my list had included all things that a Pokemon master would ever wish for. To continue my journey, I had asked for the latest videogames and a heap of card to add to my already overstuffed binders.

            I’ll never forget that morning. I was so excited that I could hardly manage a minute’s sleep. As the minutes passed, my enthusiasm grew more and more. Hardly able to restrain myself, I could literally envision myself ripping my presents open and faking a surprise. I had told Santa Clause what I had wanted months ago. And I always trusted Santa. He’s a swell guy. At least, I thought he was…

            Having counted the tiles on the ceiling for the fiftieth time, the moment had finally come! Momma shouted my name and for a brief moment, I felt as if I was a character in the Pokemon universe. Jumping over imaginary critters and socking Team Rocket with a few shadow punches, I reached the magical tree. Surrounding the tall oak, presents lay scattered around. My brothers smiled and my momma gave me the “thumbs up” to open my vibrantly colored gifts. Reaching for the first box that I could grasp, I jingled it next to my ears. SWOOSH…. SWOOSH… To my twelve year old ears, the sound was terrifying. Shaking my face, I shredded the paper and gazed within the box.

            My… At that moment, my heart literally sank to the carpet. Staring at me where the egg-shaped shaped eyes of a Digimon. Momma smiled and asked for me to try it on. Staring daggers at her, I opened my mouth, but no words came out. It must have been a mistake. Santa must have been really busy last night and dropped me off the wrong present. Smiling, I reached for the next gift and softly tore the cover off. Again, another creature that was unrecognizable plastered itself onto a red tee-shirt. With tears running down my face, I frenziedly ripped apart the boxes. My head sunk over my shoulders, as I solemnly opened my last gift. A pair of Digimon pajamas rested snugly in the box.

            Momma rested her hands on her hips and laughed.

                        “Looks like Santa was generous this year, Johnny!”

My brothers didn’t recognize the difference. Standing up, I shook my head as I continued to sob.

                        “Santa is a jerk face. He’s a good for nothing geezer. I hate him!”

Momma’s eyes widened as I pointed to the Pokemon creatures on my shirt.

                        “I asked Santa for this, instead I got a bunch of ____.”

My… That was quite the mistake. In a rage of anger, I lowered my trousers and whisked the shirt from my back. Curling them into a jumbled mess, I threw that at my brothers. They stood in silence as the vein above momma’s head began to pulse. Cornering me, I slid under her legs and ran up the stairs stark nude.

            Eventually, I was cornered. Then, I received my other gift. A fresh puck of soap… Forcing it in my mouth, I crossed my arms and pouted. It was certainly a Christmas that I shall soon never forget. And at that time, you had never seen a more agitated and somber twelve year old. The next day of school, my friends mocked me as their fingers pushed the buttons to exciting new games. All the while, I drew little creatures in my notebook while donning a bright red Digimon shirt. In the years that would follow, Santa had redeemed himself.