Peripheral
Dedicated Member
SANTA'S DILEMMA
It was late Christmas Eve and Santa was finishing his last few calls of pressie deliveries. It was the last village and just one Cul-De-Sac to go to. There were just three houses on there and then Santa would be finished for another year. Who else gets 364 days holiday a year?
The first drop was the home of the Harrison's where Barry lived. Santa, carrying a huge sack full of gifts, made his usual entry by means of the chimney, put the presents in the stocking hanging up by the fireplace, ate the mince pie that had been left out for him and drank the drink that was waiting.
He went quickly back up the chimney and a short walk across the roof brought him to the home of Mr. & Mrs Justice where Gwendoline and Tony lived.
Down the chimney he went and this time he put the presents under the Christmas tree. Another mince pie, another drink and back up the chimney.
Just one more house Santa thought to himself and then back to his workshop home at the North Pole.
The last house belonged to Mr & Mrs Ball and they had three children. Santa eased himself into the chimney and started on his journey down the soot-filled tunnel. THEN, calamity. Partway down he became stuck. He wriggled, waddled his legs, breathed out and tried desperately to free himself. He was stuck. This was the problem of too many mince pies, a protruding belly. He had to shout for help.
"Mr BALL, can you hear me? H E L P..."
Mrs Ball, who was still awake reading the Housewife's Best Way to make a caterpillar pooh casserole, nudged her husband and said,
"Harold, someone is shouting you." Harold sat up, retrieved his false teeth from his bedtime hot chocolate cup and popped them into his mouth. He grimaced.
"Gosh these are tight," he said.
"You've got mine," his wife retorted, "I gave them to you to take care of last night after they had shot out while I was having a sneezing fit."
"Well where are mine then?" he asked. "Oh I remember, I put them in the big cup under the bed."
His wife laughed, "There is no big cup under the bed, just the potty. Now get your backside out of bed and see who is shouting for help."
"It must be Santa," said Harold, "there's a reindeer looking at me through the window. It's grinding its teeth and licking its lips."
"Put your trousers on," said his wife, "I think it must be hungry and the sight of your geriatric whatsit makes it think it is an overripe carrot."
"You never miss a chance to have a go at m....." Harold started to say.
"GO AND SEE WHAT THE PROBLEM IS," his wife shouted.
He hastily donned his trousers and made haste into the living room. He was greeted by the sight of Santa's legs protruding from the chimney and into the fireplace.
"IS THAT YOU SANTA?" called Harold.
"OF COURSE IT'S ME," Santa shouted back, "WHO DO YOU THINK IT IS, A DOUBLE GLAZING SALESMAN? I AM STUCK".
Harold grabbed Santa's legs and pulled but Santa was well and truly wedged.
"JUST A MINUTE SANTA, I'LL GET MORE HELP".
"ETHEL," he shouted, "I NEED SOME HELP."
Ethel came charging into the living room and viewed the situation.
"Harold, you grab his left leg and I'll grab his right leg and we'll both pull together." This they did but Santa would not budge.
"We must grab higher up his trousers," said Mrs Ball with a frown on her face. They reached up the chimney and grabbed hands full of clothing. On the count of three, they both pulled. Suddenly Santa popped out covered in soot. He looked at Mr and Mrs Ball and burst into laughter.
"Over the many years that I have been doing the rounds on Christmas Eve," he said, "I have had quite a few unusual escapes. I have had the chimney dismantled from around me, I have been pulled out by the left leg, I have been pulled out by the right leg, I have even been pulled out by my beard BUT", a broad grin spread across his face, "this is the first time I have been pulled out by the Balls".
It was late Christmas Eve and Santa was finishing his last few calls of pressie deliveries. It was the last village and just one Cul-De-Sac to go to. There were just three houses on there and then Santa would be finished for another year. Who else gets 364 days holiday a year?
The first drop was the home of the Harrison's where Barry lived. Santa, carrying a huge sack full of gifts, made his usual entry by means of the chimney, put the presents in the stocking hanging up by the fireplace, ate the mince pie that had been left out for him and drank the drink that was waiting.
He went quickly back up the chimney and a short walk across the roof brought him to the home of Mr. & Mrs Justice where Gwendoline and Tony lived.
Down the chimney he went and this time he put the presents under the Christmas tree. Another mince pie, another drink and back up the chimney.
Just one more house Santa thought to himself and then back to his workshop home at the North Pole.
The last house belonged to Mr & Mrs Ball and they had three children. Santa eased himself into the chimney and started on his journey down the soot-filled tunnel. THEN, calamity. Partway down he became stuck. He wriggled, waddled his legs, breathed out and tried desperately to free himself. He was stuck. This was the problem of too many mince pies, a protruding belly. He had to shout for help.
"Mr BALL, can you hear me? H E L P..."
Mrs Ball, who was still awake reading the Housewife's Best Way to make a caterpillar pooh casserole, nudged her husband and said,
"Harold, someone is shouting you." Harold sat up, retrieved his false teeth from his bedtime hot chocolate cup and popped them into his mouth. He grimaced.
"Gosh these are tight," he said.
"You've got mine," his wife retorted, "I gave them to you to take care of last night after they had shot out while I was having a sneezing fit."
"Well where are mine then?" he asked. "Oh I remember, I put them in the big cup under the bed."
His wife laughed, "There is no big cup under the bed, just the potty. Now get your backside out of bed and see who is shouting for help."
"It must be Santa," said Harold, "there's a reindeer looking at me through the window. It's grinding its teeth and licking its lips."
"Put your trousers on," said his wife, "I think it must be hungry and the sight of your geriatric whatsit makes it think it is an overripe carrot."
"You never miss a chance to have a go at m....." Harold started to say.
"GO AND SEE WHAT THE PROBLEM IS," his wife shouted.
He hastily donned his trousers and made haste into the living room. He was greeted by the sight of Santa's legs protruding from the chimney and into the fireplace.
"IS THAT YOU SANTA?" called Harold.
"OF COURSE IT'S ME," Santa shouted back, "WHO DO YOU THINK IT IS, A DOUBLE GLAZING SALESMAN? I AM STUCK".
Harold grabbed Santa's legs and pulled but Santa was well and truly wedged.
"JUST A MINUTE SANTA, I'LL GET MORE HELP".
"ETHEL," he shouted, "I NEED SOME HELP."
Ethel came charging into the living room and viewed the situation.
"Harold, you grab his left leg and I'll grab his right leg and we'll both pull together." This they did but Santa would not budge.
"We must grab higher up his trousers," said Mrs Ball with a frown on her face. They reached up the chimney and grabbed hands full of clothing. On the count of three, they both pulled. Suddenly Santa popped out covered in soot. He looked at Mr and Mrs Ball and burst into laughter.
"Over the many years that I have been doing the rounds on Christmas Eve," he said, "I have had quite a few unusual escapes. I have had the chimney dismantled from around me, I have been pulled out by the left leg, I have been pulled out by the right leg, I have even been pulled out by my beard BUT", a broad grin spread across his face, "this is the first time I have been pulled out by the Balls".