Little Johnny’s Letter to Santa

Dear Santa:

You must be surprised that I’m writing you today, the 26th of December.

Well, I would very much like to clear up certain things that have happened since the beginning of the month! (While full of hope, I wrote you a letter.) I asked for a bicycle, an electric train set, a pair of roller blades, and a football uniform. I absolutely wrecked my brain studying all year! Not only was I first in my class, but I had the best grades in the whole school. I’m not going to lie to you, Santa—there was no one in my entire neighborhood who behaved better than me. With my parents, my brothers, my friends, and my neighbors, I ran errands and even helped old folks cross the street. There was practically nothing I wouldn’t do for humanity!

AND THEN YOU SHOW UP AND LEAVE ME A YO-YO, A CHEAP WHISTLE, AND A PAIR OF SOCKS?! Are you serious right now? Santa… what is this? A prank? A social experiment? Because this looks less like “Christmas magic” and more like a clearance-bin crime scene.

I’m trying to understand the logic here. I do everything right all year—straight A’s, perfect behavior, basically a tiny citizen of the year—and you hit me with the “Here you go, champ” starter pack: one yo-yo, one whistle, and socks. SOCKS, Santa. That’s not a gift, that’s a message.

And let’s talk about the kid across the street. That little “angel” got so many toys he needs a moving truck and a storage unit. I’m pretty sure he unwrapped a whole electronics department. Meanwhile, I’m standing here like, “Wow… socks. Incredible. Truly iconic.”

So here’s the deal: next year, if you’re thinking about sliding down my chimney again, do not stroll in here with that “holiday scam” energy. Because if you do, I’m going to make sure my house becomes the one story you tell the other elves like, “Yeah… we don’t go there anymore.”

You know what, Santa? I’m done. Next year you’re going to find out just how “well-behaved” I can choose not to be. You’ve been testing me for way too long, and honestly? This was a clown move. So do yourself a favor and step it up next Christmas—because I’m keeping receipts.

Sincerely,
Johnny

(17)

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