Santa, His Reindeer and a Give Away!

Hi, Kit Morgan here! As some of you know I grew up in a log cabin in the woods. My father, a homicide detective for nearly 30 years, moved us from a big old nifty Dutch colonial in what was then a middle-class neighborhood in the sixties (he bought the house for 13k, now those homes are close to a million bucks) to our cabin thinking that the country life was better for us kiddies.

All in all, it was. My brother, little sis and I were, of course, too young to miss city life. My older sister wasn’t. She missed her school friends and neighborhood buddies and wasn’t keen on being thrust into the middle of a deep, dark forest. But, like the rest of us, she adapted to our new surroundings and we all have fond childhood memories from our days growing up in such an enchanted place. Not to mention a few … uh … interesting ones. It was the deep dark woods, after all. Things happen in the woods and Christmas was no exception. No witnesses to Santa’s doings for one.

One year my brother heard sleigh bells on Christmas Eve and over the years my little sister and I heard our share of bumps and thumps in the living room after being sent off to bed. As children our first thought was always, it’s Santa! But stern warnings from our mother kept us from creeping into the living room to catch a peek of him.

Then came the year we got brave and went to investigate the odd thumping, bumping and, on this particular Christmas Eve, colorful language being spit out at odd intervals. 

“Daddy?” my little sis was the first to say when she spotted him. Daddy schmaddy ! My eyes were glued to the guy with the Santa hat bent over a HUGE box on the other side of the Christmas tree.
“What are you kids doing up?” our father snapped. “Get back to bed or you’ll get skunked by the fat guy for sure!”
“He doesn’t look fat to me,” I said, eyes still glued to the man in question.
“Me neither,” said my little sis, eyes big as platters now.
Dad, slick guy that he was, came back with, “Oh, yes, well, Santa’s been on a diet, lately. Mrs. Claus had to cut him off the cookies. Gets in the way of his golf game.”
When you’re six with a dad who plays golf, this was a plausible answer. I just wanted to get a look at Santa’s white beard and see if it was real. Never mind the fact that old St. Nick was wearing a brown windbreaker and a pair of black trousers instead of a red and white trimmed suit. At least from what I could see. Maybe he took his traditional suit off and put on his work clothes? I mean, that box was gigantic! In fact, Santa stayed bent over the box, still as a statue. He knew that if he stood and turned around, the jig would be up. He’d be recognized and our belief in the jolly old elf would be blown to smithereens.

You see everyone in town knew and loved Mr. Prokop. He owned the local TV sales and repair shop. Dad had bought our first color TV and Mr. Prokop was delivering it. He was also a neighbor so we were last on his delivery list that night. It’s not easy to hide a present like a console TV, so he took it upon himself to deliver folks’ televisions on Christmas Eve. But this was just the beginning of the story …

Early Christmas morning my little sis and I awoke to an interesting smell. Actually, it was awful. Oh, gads! Had something happened to the marvelous present Santa delivered? We got up and ran into the living room. To our horror, there were broken ornaments everywhere! Not only that, but some large animal (or animals) had, well, had lots of “accidents” on the floor, and not the kind you just spray some cleaner on and mop up. “All the EWS and ACKS woke our parents, big sis, and brother. And of course our rambunctious Great Dane, Muxel, who came happily upon the scene looking as innocent as a dove. But never mind about that, the most important thing was that the giant box was still there and wrapped no less!
“Great Scott, what happened in here?!” our mother cried – that’s the edited version.
Dad saunters in, looks at my sister and me and says, “Oh my, um … looks like Santa let some of his reindeer into the house. See what happens when you let reindeer into the house, girls?” He then tossed a murderous look at the dog.
My little sister and I glanced at each other, horrified once again. Who knew reindeer could do such a thing?
My older sister (nine years older) was less sensitive to our tender beliefs in Santa. “Muxel! You stupid dog!” She got a glare from our father. “Oh, I mean … ew! The reindeer did have an accident!”
My mother sighed. “Well Carol, if you hadn’t left so many cookies out for Santa and put them in the cookie jar like I told you, then maybe the reindeer wouldn’t have gotten into them, got a sick stomach and messed (edited again) all over the floor.” Glancing at the floor she added, “and knocked half my ornaments off the tree! Who was supposed to block the living room off?”
Silence from my sister. My dad shut up too.
After a moment of this, all of them looked at Muxel. Sans my brother, he was still a believer. To heck with the reindeer having indigestion, breaking ornaments and making messes on the floor. Our eyes had gravitated to the box in the corner. Dad had mentioned he asked Santa from something special for the family. Was I going to be the lucky one to get to unwrap it? Or was I going to have to fight my brother or little sis for the honor?
“All right, Carol, since you left the cookies out,” my mom said, “you get to help clean up the mess.”
“What? Me! Why me?”
“Stop arguing and help your mother,” our father said. “Besides, it could be a lot worse.”
Carol stared at the disaster. “How?”
“You could have left my slice of leftover carrot cake out. Just think what that would have done to the reindeer!”
This drew my younger sister’s and my attention again. Reindeer probably would have loved carrot cake. And we couldn’t deny the living room did resemble a mini war zone. But reindeer weren’t small. In our young minds, we could see how half the ornaments could be knocked off the tree as they gobbled cookies. Which, in turn, would result in any number of catastrophes, depending on how sensitive a reindeer’s stomach was.

There was a debate between my little sis and me later as to whether the reindeer hit the tree before, during or after they ate the cookies, but when you’re five and six, debates end quickly. Soon the messes were cleaned up, the glass shards swept away, (preventing future hazards) and Christmas began. And the TV? It was the best Christmas present ever! It didn’t matter that it was for the whole family. We now had a color television! Back in the sixties that was a big deal. It even overshadowed the fact that Reindeer had desecrated our living room the night before!

Years later we learned the truth of the story. We still have a polaroid photo dad took of Mr. Prokop that night. Muxel our Great Dane was never allowed to eat cookies again, (or get near another Christmas tree) and our new color TV lasted for many, many years. My little sis and I own the log cabin in the woods now, and my current television was purchased from, guess who? Santa! Who in his eighties still owns the TV and repair shop in town, and is still our neighbor up the road.

Do you have a funny Christmas or holiday story? Do share! I’ll pick one lucky winner from the comments to receive an e-copy of my newest book (releasing next weekend) Holidays with the Weavers! I’ll announce the winner on Thursday so be checking back!

To check out my other books you can find them on my Amazon page.


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Kit Morgan is the author of over 100 books of historical and contemporary western romance! Her stories are fun, sweet stories full of love, laughter, and just a little bit of mayhem! Kit creates her stories in her little log cabin in the woods in the Pacific Northwest. An avid reader and knitter, when not writing, she can be found with either a book or a pair of knitting needles in her hands! Oh, and the occasional smidge of chocolate!

27 thoughts on “Santa, His Reindeer and a Give Away!”

  1. I do not have any really funny stories except for the year we had to tie up the Christmas tree as it kept falling when our two cats climbed to the top.

  2. Kit, what a great story to kick off our special holiday weeks! With a father who was a homicide detective, what tales you must have to incorporate into your stories. This was a fun read and I know I can’t top your story. It was fabulous and thanks for sharing. Hugs, Phyliss

    • Oh, yes, we’ve got ALL SORTS of stories from Dad’s detective days. My dad had such a great sense of humor. Holidays were especially fun and this particular story gets told around Christmas all the time.

  3. Oh my goodness, what a crazy night that dog must have had! 🙂 I can only imagine coming upon that mess. As for my childhood I remember all of us grandkids on the floor of my grandparent’s basement and hearing jingle bells. Now my parents never let us believe in Santa so we immediately said it was grandpa playing with us. We got yelled at by my aunt – because her kids believed. She was quite angry that we almost “gave it away” and angry that my parents didn’t tell us he was real. LOL. All funny now, but back then we had no clue why it was such a big deal!

    • LOL! My, my! Yeah, we still don’t know what our brother heard that one Christmas Eve he swore there were sleigh bells outside. That was the real mystery. Outside! Not anywhere in the house. We chalk it up to the imagination …

  4. Oh my goodness, giggle giggle, this is such a wonderful story. Mine wasn’t quite as messy. LOL When there were only four of the five of us kids, I was the oldest and I was 7, my uncle decided (against my dads wishes) that us kids needed a dog. So known only to my mom, on Christmas eve, Uncle Nick brought us a Cocker Spaniel puppy. Oh she was so adorable and wiggly. He put her down and she went straight to us kids. We had a marvelous time playing, until she saw the tinsel and decorations and gifts under the tree. She made a beeline for it all. And this adorable puppy jumped into the middle of the gifts and her wiggly little body made quite the mess. Fortunately my dad caught the tree as it started to topple. Mom caught the puppy and we all moved to another room. Total disaster adverted. LOL My dad though (who by the way didn’t want a dog in the house)took a box and put it by his side of the bed with his alarm clock in to keep her company. LOL Dad became quite infatuated with Lady dog. Over the years she was the most loyal family dog. She was our constant companion and oh did she keep secrets well. Merry Christmas to you and yours

  5. Oh love your story! 🙂 Nothing entertaining like that is standing out in my memory… just remember the true excitement I had for both Christmas and to seeing my grandparents!

  6. This story actually involves our late beloved Minister and his daughter who was my husband’s classmate. Brother B. was recruited to be Santa at the school and he was a perfect choice. Jolly, a little plump and definitely a person who appealed to children. Child after child climbed on his lap, told him their wishes and then happily left with a candy cane in hand. Finally, it was time for Brother B.’s daughter to share her list. I’m sure he tried his best to disguise his voice and protect his identity and it seemed to work. And then, as she climbed down from his lap she looked back and said. “Santa Claus, you have shoes just like my Daddy.” Both Brother B. and his daughter are now celebrating Christmas with Jesus but my husband’s memory still gives us joy and reason to laugh!

  7. Not really a funny story, but one we fondly remember. We were living on an Air Force base when our girls were 2 and 4. Our neighbor was a small man, barely 5′ 5” and skinny. None the less he dressed as Santa on Christmas Eve and came to our house at bedtime. He sat on the sofa with the girls and read “TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS to them. They sat there never taking their eyes off of him. It was sweet and wonderful. He had done it for years for friends and continued to do it for many more. That year my husband started a a new tradition. He jogged regularly and on Christmas Eve, he strapped on a string of sleigh bells and jingled his way around his route. We heard from many friends that their children heard Santa’s sleigh.
    We liked our friends idea of reading as Santa on Christmas Eve so much, he has his own Santa suit and has done the same thing for friends’ families over the years.
    I hope you and your family have a wonderful Christmas and a great 2019.

  8. oh wow! What a great memory! I don’t recall have anything happen like that, but I do have wonderful memories of the excitement of trying to go to sleep with hopes that Santa would visit soon. 🙂

    Merry Christmas!!

  9. When my oldest daughter was 2 1/2 & my niece was 2, my brother played Santa for our family Christmas. He had pretended he had to go buy film so he could get the costume on. When Santa knocked on the picture window , the 2 girls started screaming & kicking their legs on the couch and couldn’t contain their excitement. Then he came inside and did all the normal Santa things “What do you want”, etc. When my brother came back later, his daughter said “Daddy, you shouldn’t have left. You missed Santa Claus. “

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