What if Santa Claus was in menopause?
Picture a middle aged Santa as his sleigh begins to lift
He’s halfway to the heavens when he sees he forgot the gifts
Perhaps he’s a wee bit cranky as he slides down each chimney stack
His feet are achy, eyes are itchy, he’s got pains all down his back
He’s sweating something awful, a hot flash has got its grip
His jolly suit is soaking so down each chimney he does slip
He can’t remember which house he is in, who’s been naughty, or who’s been
nice,
Quite tentatively he leaves some gifts worrying if he’s been to this house
twice.
Or maybe Santa concludes “This is my time” and decides to ditch the sleigh
In favor of a townhouse on the shores of SanTropez…
Reindeer:
Dear Santa, take your calcium, do your exercises, drink herbal tea
We need you to be your best now cause its Christmas time you see
So Santa braves another year of gift delivery.
His suit is larger round the middle so his muffin top can breathe,
There’s a wrinkle here and a wrinkle there and some dryness now we see
It’s still our dear old Santa, a little older now like me.
