Ding Dong Santa
Santa, dear Santa, you worry us so.
I feel I must tell you some things you should know.
That belly of yours just gets bigger each year.
We think it reveals too much holiday cheer.
We've started a fan club, there's three of us here.
There's me and an elf and a faithful reindeer.
You are our hero, you've touched us somehow.
You're all that we have to believe in right now.
You check us all out to see if we're naughty.
Is that glow on your nose from an extra hot toddy?
While we love to hear all your ho ho ho ho-ing,
The list of fat stories they tell just keeps growing.
Is it true that last Christmas you suffered from gout,
And those snazzy red trousers you wear were let out?
One strange vicious rumor, it's a false one we hope:
Has you dropping gifts down the chimneys by rope.
While all of your ho hos we know very well,
Your ding dongs, we fear, don't come from a bell.
They say, as your reindeer streak through the sky,
You drink cherry cokes with your raspberry pie.
The aerobics instructors are all sure to say,
"You ought to work out, maybe jog with the sleigh."
Perhaps strong exertion is too much for you.
But you really should try just a sit up or two.
So shed a few pounds, Santa, what do you say?
We all want you back to enjoy Christmas day.
Season's greetings from me, one reindeer, one elf.
Merry Christmas to you, please take care of yourself.
-Grandpa Tucker-
Copyright ©1996 by Bob Tucker
