Santa's Frugal Wife

A Story by Wharton

You have to be resourceful at the North Pole

Santa stood naked in front of the mirror jiggling his belly with his hands, singing a Rod Stewart song,

"If you want my body and you think I'm sexy
Come on, sugar, let me know
If you really need me just reach out and touch me
Come on, honey, tell me so."

He winked at his reflection, paused for a moment and then turned to the side, looked over his shoulder and shook his butt and sang his favorite Kelis' song,

"My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,
And they're like,
It's better than yours,
Damn right it's better than yours,
I can teach you,
But I have to charge"

Santa then took his red stocking cap from the top of the dresser and placed it sideways on his head, he looked again into the mirror and in his best Telly Salavas imitation crooned, "Who loves ya baby!"

He blew a kiss toward the mirror, shook his prominent belly once again and let out a hearty, "Ho ho ho!"

In the kitchen, Mrs. Claus sputtered while she washed the breakfast dishes, "Just sits all day...works one day a year...I do the dishes, sweep the floor, mend his damned pants...day in, day out...in there singing, not a care in the world...wash another reindeer feeding bowl and I'll explode!"

Santa walked out of the bedroom, wearing his long johns, walked up to his wife and patted her on her bottom, "Puttin' on a few pounds there mamma, Daddy likes that!"

Mrs Claus brushed his hand away with a soapy arm and gave him a dirty look, "Dirty old pig, you smell like reindeer!" She rubbed her nose with her upper lip, causing Santa to laugh,

"You look like an old prune when you do that woman, be careful, folks are gonna talk, say you aren't my woman, but my Granny!"

Mrs Claus tossed the wet rag she held in her right hand at her husband, who dodged aside, allowing the rag to splat against the wall, leaving a spatter and a trail as it slowly slid to the floor.

"Keep it up old man and next time that'll be your head!" she warned, pointing a bony finger just inches from her husband's bulbous nose.

Santa walked up to his wife, grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to him. He kissed her on the neck and whispered, "Ah Janine, you know that just makes me hot!"

Mrs. Claus looked at her husband and frowned, "You old Coot, Breakfast is on the table, go eat before I feed it to Rudolph!"

Santa let out another "Ho ho ho!" this one so loud it shook the dishware in the China cabinet. "I love pancakes and...what is this Jan, sausages?" Santa asked, his lips curling into a wide grin.

"You have a long trip ahead of you tonight, and you aren't getting any younger old man, and I can't have the folks saying I don't keep my old man well fed, besides, I had to do something with all that extra meat we came into recently, I figured, my man deserved some sausages. I also had the butcher fix up some bacon and a little burger too and had it frozen, but we're almost out now, we'll need more meat soon, so I can put some more up in the freezer."

Santa nodded, half listening to his wife, he was more interested in the sausages, the smell of which had wafted enticingly under his nose. He set himself before the plate, grabbed a knife and fork and greedily cut into the evenly browned link, "Kris, you slow down, you know what the Doctor said, your indigestion is caused by your gulping your food, thirty chews between swallows, remember now!"

Santa wasn't listening, he'd attacked the stack of pancakes like that guy last year in Richmond, Maine that he'd given the six pack of Moxie to...sparks flew then, as they did now.

No, Santa wasn't paying attention. Nor was he, when Mrs. Claus put on her heavy overcoat, boots and mittens. He still wasn't listening when she went into the bedroom and came out with a shot gun and headed for the front door.

Santa was finishing his breakfast, twirling the last piece of pancake in a pool of syrup when he heard a loud blast. He looked up, startled for a moment, then vaguely remembered seeing his wife with the gun. "Lucky for me," he thought, "I have a resourceful wife, since I bought me that deisel-powered sled there weren't no sense keeping those reindeer. Be a shame to just let them loose."