🎄79 Days ‘Til Christmas (August 8)
🎄 When Santa Switches into Supervisor Mode
My darlings,
You can feel it in the air—even if the cocoa hasn’t quite replaced the lemonade yet. It’s early August at the North Pole, and you know what that means?
We’re nearly in the fourth quarter. That’s how Santa puts it, anyway. He says it like a football coach giving a locker room speech, only instead of shoulder pads and helmets, we’re dealing with sugar sprinkles and sleigh bolts.
But truly—once August rolls in, everything starts to shift. Santa begins his Pre-Christmas Worries (capital P, capital C, capital W). Happens every year like clockwork. ⏰
🎁 The Not-So-Vacation-Friendly Season
Inventory gets double-checked. Workshop schedules are reviewed. Santa walks the halls of each department nodding thoughtfully, sometimes muttering things like:
“Too many yo-yos…”
“Where are we on glitter glue?”
He loves this season—but he also takes it very seriously. Let’s just say this is not the time of year to ask Santa for vacation days. ❌🏖️
And that, my dears, is why I tend to get the knock at the door.
🍪 The Cookie-Bribing Elves Begin
It starts softly. Then a shuffle. Then the telltale nervous ahem of an elf who forgot to submit their vacation request back in January and is hoping Mrs. Claus might have a little wiggle room in her calendar (and a fresh cookie on the plate). 😬🍪
Most of the time, I can make it work without Santa even noticing. No harm, no foul, as the saying goes.
But there are some elves even I can’t sneak through the system.
😬 Enter: Herman (Yes, That Herman)
Enter: Herman. Yes, that Herman. Our Head Elf. The one who got overly competitive at Game Night and argued with Santa over who actually invented marshmallow poker chips. (We still have no idea how that ended up in the rulebook.)
I was just pulling a fresh batch of pumpkin whoopie pies from the oven—“Whoopie!!!” I heard Santa shout from the next room (he says that every time)—when I heard a knock at the door.
It was Herman.
🫖 A Tea, a Cookie, and a Confession
He stood there with slumped shoulders, holding a half-crumpled vacation request form and the weight of seasonal shame on his face.
“Mrs. Claus,” he said, “I forgot to submit my week off for the first week of November. I’ve known I needed it since spring. I even made a calendar reminder—but the reminder was for last week.”
He sighed and stared down at his boots.
“Santa’s going to notice if I’m gone. He’ll notice if my station is covered. There’s no way to hide this one. But… do you think you could tell him?”
Ah yes. The old Mrs.-Claus-Will-Deliver-the-Bad-News-With-Cookies routine. I know it well. 😉
So I poured him a cup of spiced tea and gave him a warm whoopie pie, and we practiced breathing like we do with the baby reindeer. Then I told him I’d see what I could do.
🔥 The Spreadsheets by the Fire
That evening, as Santa sat by the fire reviewing production spreadsheets (he says he prefers “spreadsheets over bedtime stories this time of year,” which I personally find tragic), I slid a plate of another whoopie pie in front of him.
“Oh ho!” he said, “You’re spoiling me today.”
“Not spoiling,” I said casually, “distracting.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Distracting me from what?”
“Well… Herman forgot to file his vacation request and he’s going to need the first week of November off. I told him I’d ask.”
🧣 Santa’s Reaction (As Expected… and Not)
Santa didn’t flinch. He simply took a slow bite, chewed thoughtfully, and said, “I see.”
Pause.
Then:
“He didn’t try to send someone else in his place again, did he? Last time it was Tagwell in a trench coat pretending to be Herman, and I only figured it out because he tried to submit a tag request form instead of an ornament design report.”
“No, no,” I said, trying not to laugh. “This time it’s honest.”
Santa shook his head.
“That elf has more vacation form drama than the entire Snowball Squad combined. But… all right. We’ll make it work. He’ll owe me a batch of his gingerbread-caramel popcorn though. And I want the good kind—not the burned batch like last year.”
I kissed his forehead and said, “You’re a softie.”
He grunted, “I’m a supervisor.”
But I saw him smiling as he wrote “Herman: OFF” in his planner with a peppermint-scented pen. ✏️
🎅 Countdown to Christmas Has Begun!
So yes, my dears… the countdown has begun. 🎄 Whether you’re ready or not, Christmas is coming.
Here at the North Pole, the wheels are turning, the lists are growing, and the ovens are warming up again. 🍪✨
I hope wherever you are, you’re feeling the first quiet tug of the season—the kind that reminds you of joy, wonder, and the tiniest thrill of anticipation.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to sneak in a few vacation days of my own before Santa starts color-coding the tinsel forecast. 😉
With flour on my apron and joy in my heart,
—Mrs. Claus