Every year millions of eager children visit their local mall, anxious to sit on Santa’s lap so that they can tell him what their Christmas list entails that year. The kids who don’t go see Santa at the mall write him a decorated letter. With joy bouncing off of them, they send in their endless lists of gifts. The passion that little kids have for Christmas is unmatched by anything else. 

They wait impatiently all year for Christmas morning just to simply rip open their perfectly wrapped gifts with their greedy little hands. The rotten children are completely inconsiderate of the time and care that goes into garnishing and embellishing each gift. In addition to their ignorance to the effort from the elves, not one child has ever asked Santa what he wanted for Christmas. Everyone always says, “Here’s my Christmas list,” but nobody ever asks for Santa’s Christmas list. 

Let me paint a picture for you. While all of the children in the world wake up to heaps and piles of beautiful presents, Santa sits in his farmhouse themed kitchen at the raw wood table sipping lukewarm coffee in a “World’s Best Boss” mug –I, of course, gifted him said mug– waiting for Mrs. Claus to wake up. Naturally, Mrs. Claus had been up all night stressing about if her husband was safe on his grueling night journey.  Needless to say, she sleeps in every year. Therefore, Santa has a long wait ahead of him. One would think that the person with the most Christmas spirit on Christmas day would be Santa, but, in reality, Santa is miserable every Christmas morning. 

He doesn’t spend the morning with Mrs. Claus. He doesn’t have time to make a fresh pot of coffee the morning of, so he has to drink his day old coffee from the pot of the day before. He can’t hang out with any of the elves because they would file a report to HR. Let’s just say, it has happened before. He is extremely bloated from the pounds and pounds of hearty meals Mrs. Claus had force fed him to keep him extra plump and round. 

In the beginning of Santa’s career, he was overflowing with Christmas spirit. He could not wait for Christmas to roll around, so he could do what he does best: give. Over the years, he had come to the realization that none of the kids on the nice list even cared about who the gifts they had received came from. He meant nothing to them. He was merely the guy that gave them presents once every year. In order to make sure that she saw that Santa had come home after delivering millions of gifts to all the good boys and girls, Mrs. Claus used to set an alarm for 15 minutes before he got home. She stopped doing that. On top of all of that, Santa had terrible self esteem issues. Santa didn’t want a great big beard or snow white hair. He was 30! Santa didn’t want to be morbidly obese. He could barely walk 10 feet without needing a puff of his inhaler, and Santa’s paycheck barely covered all of his hospital bills from his respiratory issues. Sometimes, Santa didn’t want to be happy, but due to society’s strict guidelines and expectations of what Santa looked like, he plastered on the iconic jolly Santa Claus grin. Santa was crippling from carrying the weight of his expectations, his failing marriage, nobody caring about him, and his self esteem issues. He had no Christmas spirit anymore. Santa didn’t believe in Santa anymore.