2018 Tipsy Santa Blog Hop

It's been 5 years since the last one, but Tipsy Santa Blog Hop is back, hosted by Ruth Long, and co-hosted with Cara Michaels and Laura James.

Any genre gives, but being Tipsy is a requirement. Why don't you give it a go?

The Truth About Santa 

Jake was excited. He lay in his bed trying hard to get to sleep, but it was Christmas Day tomorrow and his mind raced at all the possibilities it would bring. He also tried hard to remember his Christmas list for Santa. Mum had put the envelope in her handbag to send off. He wasn’t sure if he put the new Turbo Stunt remote control car on it. He hoped so. He really wanted it.

He kicked his legs under his duvet to try and release his excitement. Then he stopped suddenly. What was that? Were those bells he could hear? Was Santa on the roof? There was definitely shuffling, downstairs. He was putting the presents under the tree! Jake just knew it.

He pushed back his duvet and climbed out of bed carefully, knowing the floor would squeak if he put too much weight on it too fast. He tiptoed to his bedroom door and put an ear to it. Was that singing? Could he hear someone singing? Jingle Bells. It was definitely Jingle Bells. He turned the handle on his door gently and pulled the door open a crack. Yes, singing.

Then the sound burst out into the hallway and Jake almost slammed his bedroom door shut in fright. There was just a narrow slit and he peeped out. He could only see the top of the stairs, not what was at the bottom – or who. Whoever it was didn’t seem to care if they woke him. Would Santa really do that? He listened to what was being sung. The words weren’t clear, like the person couldn’t quite get his mouth round them. They seemed to slur and then the person belched.

Then the tune changed to Oh Danny Boy, but instead it was his name being sung: ‘Oh Jakey Boy’. The voice was familiar.

He opened his door wider and crept to the top of the stairs and crouched down, peeping through the banisters to the hallway below. He could see the red suit, the hat, and white whiskers of a beard. It was definitely Santa, but he was hanging onto the bottom of the stairs swinging back and forth with a glass in his hand. And instead of the milk Jake had put in it, there was brown liquid like the stuff his dad drank.

As Santa swung back towards him in mid song, he spotted Jake and cried out, “Jakey! There you are!”

“Dad?” Jake stood up. “Why are you dressed as Santa?”

His dad chuckled. “Oh Jakey, you don’t still believe in him do you? It’s me! It’s been me all along!”

Then his dad swung too far and lost his balance, landing in a heap of whiskey and red material. He didn’t move, instead a raucous snore bounced up the stairs to Jake who stood at the top with tears in his eyes.

Santa wasn’t real and instead it was his dead beat dad. There was no chance he’d get the Turbo Stunt car now.