POEM: Santa Wants Beer and Tobacco

In which I try to convince my children that Santa wants beer and tobacco instead of milk and cookies.

A cold Christmas Eve with a warm moonlit glow
A quiet night soft with the fresh-fallen snow
Inside, out of reach from the cold winter air
Santa’s stuffing the stockings with care

The kids left a glass and a plate piled high
But Santa just pulls on his beard with a sigh
It’s a been a long night, still there’s hours to go
And he’d rather have beer and tobacco

Oh, milk is okay if you don’t drive a sleigh
But a cold one would warm Santa’s toes
And cookies are fine if you’re staying inside
But a corncob would thaw Santa’s nose

Rudolph got oats from the neighbor next door
And Santa’s already had cookies galore
The last thing he wants is an after-school snack
O, give Santa some beer and tobacco

His pipe can’t be packed full of ready-rubbed holly
And milk won’t make anyone’s cheeks red or jolly
Kids, put down the chocolate chip cookies this year
Please leave Santa tobacco and beer

Santa’s eyes never twinkle so bright as they do
When he’s half a bowl in while he’s sipping a brew
Eat the cookies yourself, kids, I promise I know
Santa really wants beer and tobacco

❦

When my boys were young and they believed in Santa Claus, we left a plate of cookies and milk out for Santa Claus on Christmas Eve — but I always tried to convince them that he actually wanted beer and tobacco instead. And so this poem was born.

A couple of years ago, a friend, Dan Mogck, set the poem to some original music, using the third stanza as a refrain. You can (and should!) listen to it here:

I absolutely love what Dan did — but I still think there’s room for a high-quality, festive, radio-friendly recording. Something with sleigh bells, maybe, and trumpets and electric guitar. You know, something I could send to the local radio station. (If you’re interested, please let me know — or just have at it!)

Now that my sons conveniently no longer believe in Santa, we still leave out milk and cookies on Christmas Eve — and yes, we also leave out tobacco and beer. In the morning, the boys eat the cookies. After we open the presents, I settle into my chair with a just-unwrapped book and I enjoy my morning while drinking Santa’s beer to the bottom and smoking a bowl of Santa’s tobacco. (Christmas morning is the one time a year that I smoke in the house.) It’s just about perfect.

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