Single Santa

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring not even a husband who went to bed early and left his wife to whisk Sammi off to hide in the closet so she can take the next train to the North Pole while she begrudgingly ate the fucking carrots for the reindeer, drank the disgusting milk while happily eating the cookies followed by dragging up all the presents from the top secret location to their rightful place under the tree.
What could he be tired from?
Was it a)the buying of all the said gifts? Wait, no, that’s not it.
Was it b)the wrapping of all the said gifts? Well, that’s not it either.
Was it c)lugging all of said gifts from their top secret hidden spot to their rightful place under the tree? Nope, that’s certainly not it either.
Was it d)he is Jewish and doesn’t know the real meaning of Christmas? Perhaps, maybe. (And yes, I did just throw the Jew card in there.)
Well, we may never know the real reason he fell asleep so early on Christmas Eve. What I do know is that Santa is watching and may your wife not suffocate you whilst you rest your sugar-plum filled head.