Santa Rents Some Empty Office Space
“Santa, you’re a little early.”
Thanksgiving was barely over. Black Friday hadn’t even started. But it couldn’t be anyone else. Standing in front of the chimney brushing off a few bits of soot was Santa Claus. Red suit, white beard—the real deal.
“I heard you had some empty office space here,” he said turning and walking into the barn.
In our house you can walk into the barn—right from the living room. In New England old farmhouses come with barns attached. That particular section of the barn Santa was walking into had held the offices of the wetland managers for six years. But last April we moved into a new office park nearby.
“Not really,” I said trailing after him. The old office was being converted into a dining room.
He pulled open the door to the rest of the barn.
“I see you’ve got a full woodworking shop in here. Lots of storage space upstairs. This will do nicely.” He looked at the large boxes stacked to one side. “What are these?”
“Uh, they’re display materials for the outdoor club I belong to.”
“Hmmm,” said Santa tugging on his ear reflectively. “Hardy folk these club member—hikers? The kind of people who like to be out and about in the winter?”
“Well, yes.”
“Good. We may need their help.” He took one last look around the barn. “No children?”
“No,”
“Well you can get some I suppose if something comes up.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Yes,” he said rubbing his hands together and turning. “I think this’ll do. Let’s get down to business.”
He swept past me returning to the living room.
“Santa,” I said following. “I don’t really think—“
“Now your husband always does a lot of fancy Christmas decorations every year. This year he’ll need to dress the barn up on the outside as Santa’s workshop. As soon as he’s finished, we’ll be moving in. There’ll be a dozen or so elves and a few reindeer. I’ll be stopping by now and again, just to check up.”
“But Santa this isn’t the North Pole. It’s a house and a barn with people and…stuff! Lots of stuff. There’s no room here for elves and reindeer!”
“Ho, ho ho,” he chuckled. “You’ll hardly know we’re here. We won’t take up any space at all. ”
“Besides,” he added. “The North Pole is getting a little thin with all that melting going on up there. I need to relocate a few of my helpers so we can make all the toys needed for the good boys and girls this Christmas.”
I slumped into a chair. Things were moving too quickly. “Santa I don’t think this is a good idea. I work on saving wetlands, not, not—Christmas!”
“Wetlands!” he said looking alarmed. “How did I miss that? You don’t own any do you? He peered out the window anxiously.
“Well no,” I said more confused than ever. Santa didn’t like wetlands?
“It should be ok then. I better be going–so much to do and so little time. Be sure to get those Christmas decorations up right away so we can move in.”
“But….” It was too late. Santa had departed up the chimney.
Next Week: Santa is a Bad Tenant
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Part II Santa is a Bad Tenant
Part III Disaster Strikes: Christmas Imperiled
