What Santa Thinks after Eight Hours in the Mall

Wipe your snotty nose.

You stink; get your mommy to change your diaper.

If you pull my beard, I’m going to pull your hair.

You’ve been such a naughty kid don’t expect anything for Christmas.

Do you really believe there’s a Santa Claus?

Yeah, I want to hold another screaming or crying kid.

What do I have a sign on me?—Barf on me today!

Keep that sucker in your mouth and don’t touch Santa with sticky hands.

Santa doesn’t want cookies and milk; he wants a ham sandwich and a beer.

 Kid you’ve been eating too many sweets.

Take you finger out of your nose.

No, I don’t want some of your slobbery sucker.

I hope that’s pumpkin on your outfit.

Don’t sneeze!  Don’t sneeze!  Oh, crap!

Why couldn’t I be Mrs. Claus instead of Santa.

Scrooge is beginning to make sense.

When is Christmas over?

Now I know what my wife had to put up with.

Kid, I feel like crying, too.

Quite complaining, at least you have diapers; I have to hold it.


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