By: Joel E. Elfman

Have you ever wondered what Santa does once he‘s finished bringing all the good boys and girls their toys? I had the great fortune to ask Santa that question early Christmas morning just as he arrived home from his deliveries. Per an invitation from Mrs. Claus, I arrived at the North Pole on Christmas Eve, bursting with excitement. They have invited no other journalist in history to meet with Santa, let alone a chance to visit his home.
           

It was the opportunity of a lifetime and I would not squander it. I’d spent weeks composing questions and researching Christmas lore.   

As you might expect, there was a flurry of activity as everyone prepared for Santa‘s annual flight. Santa was nowhere to be seen, but I heard the echo of his chuckle humming through the walls. After a brief but cordial greeting from Mrs. Claus, an elf led me to a comfy suite where a fire was crackling merrily in a grand fireplace.

The room was simply yet richly decorated with select pieces of spruce furniture: all expertly crafted of course.  A red Sweeney Paisley print covered the sofa, armchairs and bed; warm rustic accents decorated the area adding to the storybook atmosphere. It was positively enchanting.

Once Santa left, Mrs. Claus, and I had a quiet dinner together that she prepared. Like any good reporter, I carried my notebook loaded with interview questions. After the meal we retired to the parlor and chatted for hours.

Mrs. Claus is a delightful woman and a fine conversationalist on many subjects. We were each enjoying a mug of her favorite cocoa when Santa bustled through the door wearing a sprightly smile. At the sight of him my mouth ran dry, and I neglected all the meticulously prepared questions.

            “Welcome home, dear,” Mrs. Claus said kissing him on the cheek.

            “Hello my darling,” Santa said embracing her. Peering over her shoulder, he caught my eye across the room and grinned. “Hello, Mr. Elfman.”

            I stood. “Good evening, Mr. Claus.”

            “Please call me Nicholas.”

            “Only if you’ll call me Joel.”

            Santa chuckled. “I can do that.”

After we shook hands, I settled back into my seat. Santa accepted a cup of cocoa from Mrs. Claus, kicked off his boots, and stretched out on a recliner.

            “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Nicholas.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            “You must be exhausted.”

            “Not at all,” Santa replied. “I always have a bit more pep during the Christmas Season.”

            “What happens when the season ends?”

            “Mrs. Claus and I usually take a vacation and relax.”

            “You go on vacation?”

            Mrs. Claus’ face filled with humor. “Oh my dear boy, what else would we do?”

I was at a loss so I asked, “What do the elves do?”

            Mrs. Claus raised her hands and flapped them once at me. “Oh, they celebrate for weeks. Parades, feasts, parties—”

             “Really?”

            Mrs. Claus nodded. “How did your deliveries go?” she asked sitting across from Santa.

            “Splendid. There‘s nothing like a sleigh ride on Christmas Eve,” Santa replied spooning mini-marshmallows into his cup. “The weather was agreeable in most places. We hit some murky rainstorms over parts of Canada but Rudolph led us through it.” He laughed. “As usual I caught a few younglings sneaking down the stairs to spy on me.” 

            “What do you do when children creep up on you?” I asked.

            “Why I give them one of the cookies, they left out for me and say Merry Christmas then tuck them back into bed,” he replied as if it were evident.

            “You give them one of your cookies? You don’t eat all of them yourself?”

            Mrs. Claus gave me a pitying glance. “Merciful heavens no, he doesn’t eat them all. Do you know how much weight he’d gain if he ate every cookie left for him?”

            I shook my head.

            “42,857,142 pounds,” she said with a small laugh. “The reindeer could never fly him back home.”

            “Not to mention how sick I’d be,” Santa added.

            This realization prompted a smile to cross my face. “How many deliveries do you make in one night?”

Santa looked at Mrs. Claus for clarification. “I believe 530,000,000 was the final count for this year?”

            “Give or take a few,” she said.

            I could feel shock frozen across my face. “How in the world do you get them all done?”

            The couple glanced at each other and chortled. “Magic,” Mrs. Claus replied.

            “And the sugar rush from all the cookies and milk,” Santa added slapping his round tummy. “I may not eat them all but I have my fair share and put on a few pounds along the way.”

            Mrs. Claus frowned. “A few? All the saturated fat and high-fructose corn syrup they add to cookies these days. It goes right to his belly.” She smiled in a conspiring way. “A few years back I started making his suits with elastic waist bands to allow his belly room to grow during his trip.”

            “A brilliant idea,” Santa said.

            “How long does it take you to lose the weight?”

“A few weeks,” Santa replied. “The reindeer trainer puts me on a special diet and I increase my cardio to burn off those extra calories.”

             “Is your workshop open after Christmas?”

            “No,” Santa replied. “It’s closed for the Christmas holiday break. Once the break is over, the workshop is open twenty-four hours a day six days a week.”

            “When does Christmas break end?”

            “The day after Little Christmas.”

“Are the elves as hard working as I’ve heard?”

“Absolutely,” Santa replied.

Mrs. Claus stifled a yawn just as the clock struck 4:00 am.  “Excuse me. Nicholas may still have some extra pep but I’m exhausted.”

Although I was reluctant to end the interview, I was also tired. “I think I’ve kept you up late enough, Mrs. Claus. I’m sure you’d also like time to unwind, Nicholas.”

Santa nodded gratefully.

I rose to my feet and shook their hands. “I’ve had a wonderful time. Mrs. Claus your hospitality is legendary. Thank you so much for allowing me to interview the both of you.”

“It was our pleasure,” Santa said.

As I left the happy couple and found my way back to my suite, I realized I had forgotten to ask them most of the questions on my list. Disappointed, I slipped under the duvet and fell into a dreamless sleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I hoped to ask Mr. and Mrs. Claus a few follow-up questions but they had already left for their holiday. It occurred to me that I should have asked them what their favorite destination vacation was. But, after a moment’s thought I realized they might not have told me.

Despite not getting all the answers I sought, I’m grateful for the brief time I spent with the most legendary couple of Christmas. It’s a memory I shall forever cherish and a lesson that Santa may be coming to your town for a little sight seeing.