As we near the Christmas season
Every year I have a reason
To complain about my lot in life because
I'm unhappy as can be
No one ever thinks of me
It's not easy being Mrs. Santa Claus

Who is always doing chores?
Who does sewing and restores
That old tacky crimson suit with worn-out furs?
For a century, each year
I've been letting out the rear
To accommodate the bulge that now occurs

When my absent-minded spouse
Lets the reindeer in the house
Through that broken door the elves forgot to fix
Muddy hooves -- there's quite a few
If you're counting -- thirty two
Unless Rudolph shows and then there's thirty-six

And speaking of those elves
They do not behave themselves
All their noise while making toys compounds my woes
I am always mending frocks
And forever darning sox
That they puncture with those awful pointy toes

Since the nearest grocery store
Is a thousand miles or more
All I ever get to eat is frozen dinner
Although Santa thinks it's fine
When he sneaks a glass of wine
That's why he gets fat while I keep getting thinner

Santa Claus is too darn jolly
And I think he's off his trolley
When his cheerfulness becomes a bit extreme
I attempt a conversation
But it ends with my frustration
If I hear another "Ho-Ho-Ho" -- I'll scream

"Santa: On this Christmas Eve
I'll mount up with you and leave
Because Anna Claus deserves some holidays
Tell those elves that you released her
And she won't be back 'til Easter
Even later if they don't amend their ways

You get all the World's applause
Rightly so . . . you're Santa Claus
Every child appreciates the good you do
Good is good -- while I agree
Save a little good for me
And you'd better if you know what's good for you!

Omar West