
Dear Santa — make it stop.
I mean. You must be sick of it, too.
Once upon a time, your mailbox was full of cute home-made cards, pieces of colourful paper scrawled with kiddie-crayon, wafted up northern-hemisphere chimneys atop of winter-warming flames. Envelopes slipped into letter-boxes with SANTA, NORTH POLE printed neatly on their faces.
Now, Christmas present wishlists are all PowerPoint. Google Slides. Showcasing Canva skills.
The tweens and teens have gone corporate, and I am not here for it. I can't imagine you are, either.
Watch: One mum from TikTok shares a video of her daughter presenting her 'Christmas Wishlist'. Post continues after video.
Actually, f**k that, let's get real. You ARE me. I have been Santa and Mother Christmas, and several, shabby, teleporting elves for almost 15 years now. And I don't appreciate that the magic of Christmas is now indistinguishable from that management meeting I tried to get out of for a full 10 years.
I know I'm not the only one receiving an email to my work address, subject-line XMAS PLZ.
I know I was not the singular parent who marvelled at the sheer number of slides in the presentation, each with a request ranging from the reasonable to the ridiculous, studded with helpful prompts - a hyperlink here, an "only available in store" there. A declaration that "I know you can't buy them all, I've put a star next to the ones I really, really want" — only to find that every page, from the $20 sunset lamp to the $150 trainers are studded with stars.