🎅Santa’s Pre-Flight Mischief and the Mysterious “Elf Storage”🎅
🎄He said he was scouting rooftops. What he really found was a new motivational tool for the elf break room…
There’s a certain kind of zappy energy that creeps into the air this time of year—not the peppermint-sparkle kind, but the “we-have-fourteen-lists-and-three-hours” kind. And while the elves are buzzing, the cocoa is constantly reheating, and I’m navigating a minefield of gingerbread trays and misplaced wrapping tape… Santa gets a little cheeky.
Not every year, mind you. But on the years when there are major developments—you know, tech upgrades to the sleigh, wrapping automation reboots, cookie delivery analytics (don’t ask)—he starts to twitch with extra energy. And when that happens, there’s only one cure: a pre–Christmas Eve flight.
Now, normally I go with him. I grab my camera, a scarf, and a tightly sealed thermos of peppermint mocha and we do a little sightseeing. It’s sweet, really. We take in the lights, the rooftops, the general feel of the season. I snap photos of things I want to remember. Quiet moments. Church bells. Someone’s inflatable nativity scene getting tackled by a snowman.
But this year? My plate was full (literally—250 cookies waiting for frosting), and Santa was running out of time. So he took the sleigh out without me. Tagwell, our ever-eager elf, rode shotgun. Apparently he was in charge of sleigh altitude… and snacks.
When Santa returned, he did the honorable thing and let me sleep. But the next morning, after a respectable amount of coffee and a warm cinnamon roll, he said:
“Darling, I took some pictures for you. Thought I’d catch what might interest you.”
Oh, good. A thoughtful gesture. That’s what I thought at first.
He scrolled through a few sweet rooftop shots, a blurry reindeer selfie courtesy of Tagwell (we’ll talk about that later), and then… this.
He was already grinning.
Before I could say a word, he sat up straighter, puffed out his chest like a boy who’d pulled off a prank without getting caught, and declared:
“I’m going to frame this and hang it in the elf break room. Tell them we’ve finally got a place to send naughty elves.”
The man tickled himself silly. He almost couldn’t contain his laughter!
He was so pleased I thought he might fall out of his chair.
I, of course, said all the proper things:
“Santa Claus! That’s terrible!”
“Absolutely not!”
“You will not traumatize the elf workforce in the final stretch of December!”
But inside?
…I mean… some of those elves really could use a sober thought.
I held my ground. He held his mischief. And the photo? Let’s just say it mysteriously ended up saved as his desktop background. Probably by accident. Or maybe Tagwell’s doing.
🎁 Closing Thought:
So, my darlings, as we count down these final days to Christmas, rest assured:
Santa’s flying, the elves are working (mostly), and I’m doing my best to keep us from being permanently banned from Washington State.
And to whoever owns Tacoma Elf Storage: thank you for the laugh. You may have made Santa’s year.
With a smile I refuse to show him,
Mrs. Claus
Santa C.
I swear the ‘S’ was already out when I flew over. I was just scouting rooftops and—bam! There it was. Tagwell and I couldn’t breathe, we were laughing so hard. I’m going to frame it. Maybe even make it a calendar page.
No. You absolutely will not turn it into a calendar. Or a motivational poster. Or an “Elf Disciplinary Visual Aid.”
But do save me a copy for my scrapbook. Just one. 5×7. Matte finish.
Rev. Thomas Abernathy, 69, retired choir director.
While I do appreciate a good chuckle, I do worry that such humor may diminish the dignity of our holiday calling. The elf break room should be a sanctuary of peppermint and reverence, not neon and consequence.
Rev Abernathy, you remain the only man I know who once used the phrase ‘festive but reverent’ about a tinsel garland. I admire your commitment to the cause—but just between us, even reverence can giggle once in a while. No disrespect intended sir.
Gary (Middle-aged North Pole maintenance guy, always siding with Santa) I think it’s brilliant. I say we print it on staff mugs. Put one in the lunchroom. Maybe even on the sleigh nav screen as a screensaver. Santa’s still got it.
Gary, don’t encourage him. He’s already trying to sneak it into the annual HR training. I had to bribe Tagwell with spiced cocoa just to keep it out of the elf handbook.
Caroline, age 8, writing in with her dad, Peter
Hi Mrs. Claus! I liked the picture and I laughed. But… um… is Santa ever naughty? And does he get in trouble?
Oh Caroline, you dear little truth-seeker. Let’s just say this: Sometimes Santa makes jokes that make me raise an eyebrow, like this post. And when that happens, I remind him that being “jolly” doesn’t give him a free pass. He usually agrees… and then tries to hide his smirk behind a cough.
Eli, age unknown, reindeer barn janitor (and part-time harmonica player)
I saw the picture. I laughed out loud. Then I cleaned my workbench. Then I apologized to the sleigh team. Just in case. You never know.
Eli, you’ve been doing your work faithfully since we still had paper route maps. But if a flickering sign motivates you to tidy up after those reindeer stalls a little faster, I say let the light shine.
Mrs. Dolores Whitman, 82, retired schoolmarm from Ohio
This is highly inappropriate. I cannot believe Santa would joke about detaining his own elves. The emotional ramifications could be long-lasting. In my day, discipline was handled quietly—with order and dignity, not glowing signs and missing letters. I will be writing someone about this.
Oh, Dolores dear, write away—would you like my letterhead? I understand your concern, truly. But I promise you, not a single elf has suffered harm. One even offered to add blinking lights to the sign. I told him to go take a long walk and think about his choices.