I re-post this every year.
What Santa Thinks after Eight Hours In The Mall
Wipe you 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 just have to hold it.