A Christmas Story

It being the holiday season and all that I thought it would be appropriate to write a little children’s story, one that mamas and papas could read to their children.

Once upon a time there were three aardvarks named Sam, Pete, and Ethelbert who lived with their mother, Mama Mia Aardvark. Mama Mia loved her sons very much; she baked them marvelous ant-pies. However Mama Mia knew that she couldn’t keep them home forever; they had to go out in the world and make their own homes. She warned them, though, to beware of the Wicked Santa.

Sam was a lazy shiftless aardvark. He talked about building a great palace but when it came time to do the work he settled for building a grass shack. Pete and Ethelbert warned him that it wasn’t strong enough to keep out the Wicked Santa but Sam just poo-pooed them.

Sam hadn’t been in his brand new house more than a day when the Wicked Santa came by, knocking at the door. “Let me in,” cried the Wicked Santa. “Not I,” cried Sam, “Mama Mia says that you’re wicked and bad.” “Let me in by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin, or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in.” “Never,” cried Sam. So the Wicked Santa huffed and he puffed and he blew the house in and he covered Sam all up with Christmas presents.

When Pete heard what happened to Sam he vowed that he would build a fine strong house that the Wicked Santa couldn’t blow down. Alas, Pete was a lazy little aardvark too. He built his house out of sticks. Ethelbert warned Pete that it wasn’t strong enough to keep out the Wicked Santa but Pete just poo-pooed him.

Pete hadn’t been in his brand new house more than a day when the Wicked Santa came by, knocking at the door. “Let me in,” cried the Wicked Santa. “Not I,” cried Pete, “Mama Mia says that you’re wicked and bad.” “Let me in by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin,” or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in.” “Never,” cried Pete. So the Wicked Santa huffed and he puffed and he blew the house in and he covered Pete all up with Christmas presents.

Ethelbert was a good, hard-working little aardvark. He didn’t build his house out of grass. He didn’t build his house out of sticks. No, he built his house out of bricks. Mama Mia Aardvark warned him to be careful. She didn’t want to lose her last son. (Sam and Pete were in Bermuda, using travel coupons that Santa had given them.)

Ethelbert hadn’t been in his brand new house more than a day when the Wicked Santa came by, knocking at the door. “Let me in,” cried the Wicked Santa. “Not I,” cried Ethelbert, “Mama Mia says that you’re wicked and bad.” “Let me in by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin,” or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in.” “Never,” cried Ethelbert. The Wicked Santa huffed and he puffed and he huffed and he puffed but he couldn’t blow Ethelbert’s house in.

The Wicked Santa wasn’t through though. Quick as lightning he popped to the roof top and jumped down the chimney. But Ethelbert was ready for Santa and he had a big pot of boiling water on the fire. Plop into the pot went the Wicked Santa. Ethelbert and Mama Mia had roast Santa for Christmas Dinner.

And that, children, is why Christmas only comes once a year.