One of my Nephews asked for a Christmas story this year involving three facets- Grandma got ran over by a Reindeer, Jesus and Santa. It took a while to conjure a story to suit the criteria, but here it is. Merry Christmas from the Suttles Family.
Christmas story 2025
Dark chocolate, or even better dark chocolate with candied orange peel bits. Then, maybe an earl gray tea swirled with milk and sweetened with honey. Next, I suppose, would be to have my hugs and kisses box filled to the brim (REAL hugs and kisses, not the kind wrapped in foil). After that some super-sappy-snugglin’-sessions and then, after all of that is taken care of; I want to top it all off by having a make-out session with Mom.
Dad wrapped his arms around himself and turned to hide his face. Moving his hands up and down on his sides to act like he was kissing Mom. Changing his voice from deep to high pitched he played out both parts of the conversation between him and the not- there Mom.
“Oh, Mom. You are so beautiful! Your eyes are so deep, I could just fall in and swim around. And your lips, they look sooooo kissable!”
“Oh, Dad! What a big, strong handsome man! And what an amazing hunter you are! You should definitely kiss me!”
The kids gagged and acted out gut wrenching. Dad! Enough! Stop it already!
Dad, knowing he still had an audience, laid the scene on thicker.
“Smoochy, smoochy, smoochy! Kiss, kiss, kiss.
“Seriously, Dad. All we wanted to know was what we could get you for Christmas. You did not have to gross us out and make us sick.”
Helen, the oldest daughter but middle child, was the policeman in the family. She tired at Dad’s goofiness because she REALLY needed to get her homework done and get over to Christmas play practice… so she could see Solomon.
Matilda, or Matty, was the youngest. She may not have been a Teenager yet, but she knew what Helen was thinking.
“Oh, Helen. Stop being so bossy. Just ‘cause you are wanting to go see Solomon (she spoke the name with a flourish of feminine adoration and employed the body language to suit) arrayed in all of his glory…”
“Matty, hush your mouth,” Helen threw a piercing stare along with the command.
“I will not! And you ain’t gonna make me neither.” Matty flashed her smug smile to Helen and then looked up at Daddy. Matty changed in an instant from defiant younger sibling to defenseless daughter. “Besides, I like it when Mommy and Daddy kiss.”
Helen’s anger was already rising and when Matty moved into, you-can’t-touch-me-I’m-the-baby, kiss up mode, Helen boiled over… and Matty had counted on it.
Helen lurched toward Matty but she was a step ahead and buried herself against Daddy’s leg.
“Girls, stop!” Dad’s voice boomed.
Helen had stopped just short enough that when Dad turned away she could make another lunge at Matty just to let her know Helen could get to her.
Quick as a flash, Helen parried with her own feminine charm. Softening her eyes and lowering her shoulders, “Daddy, I love you sooooo much. Can you just tell me what you want for a Christmas present?” She waited until she caught Mattie’s eyes and snarled. Then went back to her innocent persona. “I just want to give you the best Christmas present ever.”
Matty was impressed, Helen had played that to perfection.
Dad, seemingly completely oblivious to the woman war raging around him, turned to face the girls. He reached, lovingly, for both of them to give him a hug.
“What I want most is for both of you to have a soft heart.”
…
After Christmas play practice Matty and Helen were sitting back in their bedroom. Matty piped up, mimicking Dad’s voice, “What I want most for Christmas is for both of you to have a soft heart.”
Helen burst out, “I know, what kinda crap load of Dad junk is that!”
Both girls began to ape around acting like Dad. They picked at their crotch and butt then scratched their underarms and smelled their fingers, made fart noises and Helen conjured up a real burp Dad would have been proud of.
Just then Dad called out from the living room, “That was a good one!”
The girls froze, looked at each other and broke out in laughter.
Helen had had enough. She stood up and marched out into the living room. Matty followed suit.
“What kinda crap are you trying to pull? You have two girls here that love you to death and all we want to do is get you something for Christmas.
You pull some crazy Dad jargon and tell us you want us to have a soft heart. What is wrong with you?!”
Dad smiled his dumb, stupid boy smile that always irritated the Girls.
“A hard heart is well on its way to being a broken heart. A soft heart is pliable and soft enough to absorb the bending, twisting and impacts life has in store. Those terrible painful experiences are going to happen to you, no doubt about it. You do not get a vote or a say in what happens outside of you, but ONLY you get to control what happens inside of you. Making your heart hard or soft is your choice, no one else gets to choose that for you.”
Matilda slipped up beside her Dad and gave him a big squeeze. She looked up with admiration and love in her eyes, “I love you, Daddy!” And then placed her head on his chest.
Helen did not know what to do. She was angry and sad and happy and confused. She was frozen, wanting to argue but she knew arguing with something said so sweetly would make her look wrong.
Dad reached out to her. She really did not know what to do so she leaned in and begrudgingly submitted to a hug.
Dad obviously noticed Helen’s reluctance to buy in on the idea. “Have you girls ever heard the story about how Grandma got run over by the Reindeer?”
Helen knew Dad was angling and she was hesitant to answer. If he was setting up a Dad joke she did not want to bite. If he was making up a story for an object lesson she did not want to hear it.
Matilda, however, had no problem with either scenario and she took the bait willingly. “You mean like the goofy Christmas song?
That really happened?”
“Nope, the song is a made up story and was written by a guy named Randy Brooks in the late 1970’s. There is a whole different version that is reported to have happened a couple of years before.
According to the top secret documents, there was a really rad Grandma back in the mid 70’s. She been recruited by the Super Secret Department in NASA she was tasked with tracking Santa Claus on his Christmas delivery duties. NASA needed Santa’s secrets so they could sneak CIA Agents behind the Berlin Wall and to get informants into Fidel Castro’s regime down in Cuba.
This Groovy Granny’s name was Fawn Flower Starbeam. She wore an her hair straight and it was usually tied in a neat paisley kerchief. For threads, she sometimes wore her orange blouse with corduroy skirt when she was working. On her days off it was tank tops and bell bottom jeans, unless she was going to the Disco or roller skating.
Roller Skating was her dig. She had been a car hop delivering food and shakes to people at the drive-in in her younger days and she fell in love with roller skating. Lately She had been involved in a local roller derby. That is where NASA found her and why they recruited her.
She was a stone fox that was off the hook and slammin’ with the stellar roller bootin’ she took to the max.
Dad stopped and translated:
What that means is- She was a beautiful woman, like really beautiful, that was cool and fun to be around especially when she was showing off on her roller skates, because she was very good on them.
Back to the story.
Remember, the Super Secret Department at NASA hired this outa sight Granny to track Santa’s 20. Her Super Secret Dept. Boss was kinda nifty even though he was the man. He slid Granny the lowdown.
“Here’s the skinny, Doll, this jive turkey keeps giving us the slip. Keep him in your sights, capiche?”
“Yeah, I copy, just mind your own potatoes and leave the hard work to us big girls. I’ll catch you on the flip side.”
Then Granny was all, aww sooky sooky, and she lit a shuck. She was digging her new gig.
“Dad,” Matilda interrupted, “is this story in English? I hear the words you are saying but they don’t make any sense.”
Mom laughed, “the 70’s certainly had some interesting lingo.”
Dad summed up the story so far:
Even though the guy was Granny’s boss he was a pretty nice guy when he explained Granny’s assignment.
She was supposed to keep track of Santa.
Granny said she understood and she could handle the job without her boss’s help.
She was very excited to get started and loved her job.
Dad continued with the story but tried not to go heavy with the jargon.
Granny decided to catch Santa in the Smoky Mountains of East Tennessee. She figured Santa would have a hard time navigating into the hollers so she set up her surveillance headquarters there.
Granny was one smart cookie. Her plan worked swimmingly… uh, really well.
As the sleigh landed and the jolly old man made his deposit, Granny, with her roller skates on, whizzed down the little road and stuck a tracking device on the rig just in time.
None of the Reindeer saw her. Quick as a flash Santa was back in his seat and the Reindeer took off. Granny had slid around the sleigh in a jiffy but the Reindeer were steppin’ wicked fast. They took off in a shot. Granny stood up just a little too fast and one of the Reindeer hooves caught Granny knocking her to the ground.
“Oh snaps!” Santa felt the bump and stopped to help Granny. As she was lying on the ground, He sprinkled some North Pole snow that had been kissed by the Aurora Borealis; it works like magic, you know.
Granny woke up and saw Santa kneeling over her. She was stoked! She sat up and told Santa everything was copacetic. And he was like, “Right on!”
Since Santa had helped her out, Granny did him a solid. She told him about her mission and removed the tracker she had planted.
Santa told Granny they were square. He also told her how to sneak behind the Berlin Wall and he gave her the whereabouts of Fidel Castro’s secret entrance.
Santa got back in the sleigh, “Check ya later, Granny!” And he was off.
Granny took the info back to her boss and got home in time to celebrate Christmas with her family.
As they sat down to open the presents Granny got to enjoy watching her eldest Grandson read the REAL Christmas story as written in Luke chapter 2.
As he read about the the Angels heralding the birth of Christ and the Shepherds going to find the babe, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger, Granny’s heart was cheered.
She thought back to what Santa had told her earlier that night. It was her soft heart and her kindness that made her a great groovy Granny.
Helen knew Dad had made up the whole thing. He had cooked up that entire cockamamie story just to get his girls to hear a stupid little line at the end about how having a soft heart helps us… but she had to admit, deep down, she was impressed.
Matilda piped up, “I did not understand half the words you said, Daddy, but that was a beautiful story!”
Helen, wit sharp as ever, quipped to Dad, “Jeepers creepers dude, that was outa sight! Now, don’t be a bunny, honey! Load me up on what you are hankerin’ for the fat man to drop on you this holiday?”
Dad shot her a smile, “I’d like him to lay some coin on me, Sister!”
Helen was like, outa sight man, I dig ya.
Matty shook her head, “What are you two talking about?”
The End