Every night I come home, take a shower, get in bed, and search through ABC Family, Hallmark, and Lifetime for some kind of Christmas movie to make me jolly without including animation because if there’s one thing that most people are aware of it’s that I dislike animation that comes anywhere other than in the form of The Lion King, The Little Mermaid, and Beauty and the Beast. Let’s be real here.
Yesterday, while watching yet another movie in which a woman either falls in love with Santa Claus or the heir apparent I got to wondering about who would really be okay with getting invited on a date with Santa Claus and the idea of marrying Santa Claus and moving – not to Charleston or even New York – but to the North-freaking-Pole, where you’ll be waited on by elves and I’m pretty sure the color pink is admonished which is something I can’t get on board with kind of like I could never wear a military uniform, which even typing military uniform makes me want to get all the army green out of my closet for good.
So what I’m thinking is, if the current problems I have with finding a man include that I can’t find one that is kind and fun and and doesn’t talk about needing money from his parents or text other girls while we’re having a beer or say stupid things or make me feel bad about asking a question and suggests I refer to google first, then what would I say if Mr. Wonderful looked me in the eyes and said, “I want you to meet my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Claus” or “Have I told you that the suit I wear to work is big and red?”
Would I run – or would I spend hours perfecting eggnog to a point where I actually find it bearable and making sugar cookies that aren’t the add-an-egg-and-a-stick-of-butter kind and trying on dresses that are red and lipsticks that match my blush and learning to drive
stick sleigh and relishing in the fact that I have finally found the only man in the world whose job it is to have a beard for ever and ever? #datingsantaproblems
These are real thoughts and real issues and real problems and real scenarios that keep me up at night while visions of sugar plums dance in my head and I’m pondering my dating life and why it’s so terribly depressing yet incredibly entertaining and how it’d be really great to marry into a family business where the gift giving is provided on site by a factory you run and your style is always in style and you don’t have to pay gas because that’s what reindeer are for and the only female competition you have stands at about 3 feet tall with pointy ears and a pointy hat and pointy shoes and snow ball fights are considered flirting and if that’s the case then becoming Mrs. Claus would certainly be a whole lot easier than my current mission of learning how to flirt from scratch in a city where every other girl seems to have already gotten the hair-tossing, lip-pouting memo.
xx, The Future Kristin Claus