Santa's Senior Moments.

It was that most magical time of the year, Christmas again. Santa was preparing for his long-haul flight. But this year, there was no turning back. Maybe he was never coming home. His sleigh was ready, with an open return-date.

In spite of the usual traditions, the world had changed forever. Due to the ever expanding global warming and climate change, the North Pole had turned into a surf beach. It was now labelled, "New North!"

Mrs. Merry Santa heaved a sigh, her grey hair and doughty bosoms prevented her wearing a bikini. She could hear old Santa, getting drunk with his fur friends. The reindeer were a slightly macabre version of venison, very prone to getting inebriated. They had alcohol dependency issues of their own. Mrs. Santa was used to being tolerant and patient. Maybe it was time to change, to journey on in her life, or was she happy the way she was?

Mrs. Merry Santa was used to keeping to herself. She tried to avoid every last love child of Santa, otherwise his naughty little elves. Yes, sarcastic senior Mrs. Santa had a very good idea what senior Santa had been getting up to. with his little black book of girls who were not very good. Indeed, all those Christmases past, senior Santa had been having his moments in Bad Girls' lane, somewhere in the world.

The Bad Girls were not really into the mothering bit, so they had sent all those naughty little elves to Mrs. Merry Santa in what had been the snow and blizzards of the North Pole. Pondering, Mrs. Santa turned to online healing and life coaching.

"Welcome, senior women. You must take care of you now. Live every day in the moment. Make every minute a 'wow' factor, with an attitude of gratitude. Focus on one day at a time. This is all good for your senior immune system."

""Right, that is good advice," Mrs. Santa told herself. Just then, the New North Surf Club lively young dudes wandered past her window. "Wow!" thought Mrs. Merry Santa, gazing at their suntanned physiques in their skimpy swimming shorts. "I am allowed to look," Mrs. Santa said, kindly. "Worth a glance. Quite impressive, better than designer snow ski injuries. Young is definitely trending here. Wow factor, hotties!"

Mrs. Santa could hear her senior husband singing with the reindeer, in preparation for the magic of Christmas Eve. He was getting ready for his long haul flight. "Ho, Ho, Ho, I know where all the bad girls go!" "Show off!" thought Mrs. Santa, deciding to take care of herself for once.

Kindly, but firmly, focusing on each day, and crossing bridges, it was all in accordance with healing for a senior woman. So, Mrs. Santa made herself merry by packing up all the naughty little elves. She sent them on a flight to boarding school on the dark side of the moon. It was Santa's accountability for their food, clothing and education, no longer her problem. She had all the school fees and child support payments sent to Santa, future address unknown. Open return this year. "Wow!" thought Mrs. Santa, not sadly.

Mrs. Santa continued with the new way at New North. While keeping to herself, she gathered all Santa's jolly fat red suits, and his cheating heart lingerie, and dumped them all in a bulging suitcase.She popped that on the front doorstep, and changed all the locks, too easy. She had read that on one of those DIY websites. "Cheers for decent, trustworthy men," Mrs. Merry Christmas muttered, "Stiff, women, stiff. Ingrate!"

Well, dear reader of this epic tale of Wow moments, Santa did not appreciate the old order changing. He, too, needed to want to change, to evolve and develop. Fat chance, note pun.

Santa had a wobbly moment, but quickly rallied himself and his reindeer. He had his mission statement for that magical time of the year. He grabbed his suitcase, and all that Christmas stuff. As well as that, he loaded every bottle of eggnog he could find. Santa was experiencing a senior moment, he did not look good. Mrs. Santa no longer cared, did not even hope that any other woman could even consider feeding old Santa the senior, let alone wash his giant bloomers.

Santa took off. This was it. The reindeer all had big red noses, just like Santa's. Mrs. Santa no longer had to take care of anyone. But, she had given Santa his senior issues with older ladies. To her, the last remaining bottle of eggnog beckoned. Wow!

Sadly, for Santa, one thousand copper choppers all set off after him. It was that magical time of the year for drunken drivers. Sirens blared, blue lights flashed, the noise was horrendous. They were interrupting beautiful, sentimental Silent Nights all over the globe. Senior Santa was off with the pixies. "Attaboys!" he roared at his drunken reindeer. They were targeting sweet little old ladies, walking around with gifts for the neighbors on Christmas Eve. Santa cheered his fur boys on, as they tried to spear and demolish the grandmas of Christmas.

The police were furious with him. "Santa, pull over, driver! Your are drunken and disorderly. You should not be driving that sleigh tonight!" But this was Santa's senior moment, it was all about him tonight. He switched into hyper-drive, and left the angry copper choppers far behind. It was magic, all right. Even Santa could have a wow moment.

"Wow!" said all the sweet little children of the world. Santa no longer gave a stuff, being a senior stud. He threw all the wrong stuff at all the wrong kids. Christmas was forever stuffed. All the children of the world now thought that Santa, the senior drunk, was their New North role model. They, too, were going to turn to alcohol dependency to resolve life's little concerns. It was the Senior Santa New North tradition.

Meanwhile, back at New North, Mrs. now Merry Christmas had enjoyed her bottle of eggnog. "The Divorce Court does understand," her self-website scrolled on. "Take care of you. it is your time of life to seek your own determination. Live in the now!" Mrs. now Merry Santa and the slightly redundant Christmas fairy sat down together. They gazed at all their toy boys, splashing and surfing at New North. Magic. Nothing like fat old senior Santa and his senior moments, and fat jocks.

It was time for change. Mrs. Santa had kept all the biggest boxes of Christmas chocolates, the chick force were eating them for themselves. Living in the moment, open-return, gave her a journey of her own. Every day (and chocolate, and surfer), was one of those "Wow!" experiences.