"Good grief! Is it that time already? But you’re a bit early, Santa."
"Yes, this is my recce trip, just walking over the ground before the big trip on Christmas Eve."
"Yes, please. I need it, and I knew you’d have something ready. Your good health!" Long slurping noises. "Aaah! That’s the story. Now to business. What’s this I hear about your family deciding on no presents this year?"
"Oh, you heard about that? You must know everything."
"Of course, except I don’t know why you would do such a thing."
"Well, the whole family will be here and at the preliminary briefing it was suggested that we skip the presents. Apart from gifts for the grandson who’s 5 and a great fan of yours. Less luggage to cart around and saves a few bob, too."
"Yes, I got the letter from your grandson. There’s a list of 32 items he wants me to deliver."
"Well, we told him Santa would see what he could do but might not be able to bring them all. Trouble is he’s into numbers in a big way and he’ll be doing a count-up. If there’s not 32 items we may have a bit more explaining to do."
"I can tell you now there’s room for only half a dozen presents for young Einstein and I’ll be giving the 6-foot teddy bear a miss. He must think you’re made of money. It’s listed at $270 in my book."
"Yeah. He’s an optimist and apparently he knows a kid who has one."
"Anyway, I’ll look after your boy, so no worries. But what concerns me is this no presents for the grown-ups business. Say a dozen, each slated for half a dozen presents. That’s almost 100 items just for one household. If people start latching on to your ‘no presents’ gimmick you know what’ll be the result?"
"Umm, less packaging to cart to the dump after Christmas?"
"There’s that, but you’ve missed the real point. No presents means hundreds of elves out of work, Santa’s workshop on a three-day working week and me and the old girl heading for bankruptcy in our old age. Rudolph and his mates on half rations and probably sent to the knackers’ yard if it gets too bad. Bet you never thought of that."
"No. No. I never realised. Oh, dear. This is awful. I’m sorry. I feel bad about this."
"Now, calm down. You’re not the only one to give presents a miss but I’ve always seen you as a fashion leader. An influencer. Once the word gets out that no presents were needed at your place, by next year the whole damn country will be giving me the old heave-ho."
"It seemed a good idea at the time, Santa. I still haven’t worn the lovely socks and grundies you brought me last year and the two years before that, so I wasn’t relying on getting any more. But we can’t have you retiring because of lack of work. I’d never forgive myself. Look, I’ll make a list for the family members. They’ll actually be chuffed to get something even though they’ve decided against it. Maybe a mixture of items that are sure to please. Some decent bottles of wine, New Zealand-made chocolate, a pile of vouchers. Petrol and book vouchers always go down well."
"That’s easily done. What about your teenage grandkids? Wine, chocolate and books suggest you’re thinking only of yourself."
"Fair enough. I’m sure you could rustle up some teenage stuff."
"Maybe a three-in-one charger. It can charge up to three devices simultaneously, including a MagSafe iPhone, Apple Watch and AirPods. About $200 would cover it."
"That’s a mystery to me and maybe lacks the personal touch. How about socks and maybe handkerchiefs with names embroidered on them?"
"Very well. $20 should cover that."
"Great. So much more intimate, don’t you think?"
"Well, I can drop all this stuff off on Christmas Eve and thank you for your order, Jim. If everyone was like you then Santa Claus Ltd has a solid future."
"Least I could do, Santa. I’m a bit worried about how I explain the pile of presents under the tree to a bunch of people who have decided on no presents this year."
"Just tell them Santa left them. It will be the truth and tell them if anyone gives you a hard time over breaking the family agreement, they’ll be off my list next year."
"Y’know, Santa. Some good will come of this. Some of the family, the older, more sophisticated element, sometimes suggest that you don’t actually exist. This pile of gifts appearing from who knows where might just bring them to their senses. Merry Christmas, old-timer."
"Same to you, my boy. Merry Christmas."
— Jim Sullivan is a Patearoa writer.
