Santa’s Going To End Up On His Own Naughty List

While I was too young to remember this story firsthand, my grandparents love telling it every year. When my cousins and I were little — my brother was the oldest at five years old — we were staying at our grandparent’s farm on Christmas Eve night. The adults had gotten the kids bedded down and Grandpa said he needed to go check on the horses for the night.

Not too much longer, stomping could be heard on the roof and a man called out, “HO HO— OOOOH, S***!” before sliding off the roof and, unknown to us kids, landing on a snow pile below the lowest end of the roof.

My brother, upon hearing the shout, sat up and yelled:

Brother: “SANTA SAID S***! SANTA SAID S***!”

A snow-covered Grandpa came back in shortly after, unharmed.

Grandpa: “The horses are fine, but that’s the last time I think Santa will stomp around on the roof. It was apparently a bit icy up there.”