You don’t need to point out to me that my performance as Santa Claus has been lagging a bit. 2025 has been a rough year for many of us, and I’m not the only one whose work has suffered for it.

But I can firmly promise that I will not draw your feet while you sleep.

Wait, you didn’t realize this was a thing? Well, people are complicated, and while I’m best known as a benevolent holiday figure, I’m also a gifted anatomy artist and an expert at tiptoeing around houses without waking people up. So I innocently wanted to draw a whole lot of feet, and I didn’t think you’d mind.

By happy coincidence (or so I thought at the time), a lot (lot!) of people were also willing to pay for high-quality foot drawings. The money was really good.

My bad, guys. I screwed up. But it won’t happen again. I won’t draw your feet while you sleep.

Anymore.

I’m telling you this because I don’t want to over-promise and under-deliver this Christmas season. A lot of the free gifts I was giving to good little boys and girls were evidently being paid for by people with foot fetishes. Discontinuing my “side hustle” means we have a smaller budget. Some compromises will be unavoidable.
But I promise you this: I will not sketch, draw, paint, or sniff your feet while you sleep.

I’m doing 160 hours of court-ordered community service, marriage counseling, and talk therapy, which are placing me under considerable strain. I might forget to remove my boots and track soot all over your living room floor. I might pilfer the occasional light bulb or ink cartridge when I need one.

But you know how last Christmas you woke up with cold feet because the covers had been pulled up? That won’t happen again.

So if you end up with the occasional gift addressed to the wrong person, or your son’s Bey Blades toy set arrives in a damaged box that appears to have been opened and returned, or you find a few roofing shingles in your front yard on Christmas day due to a rough landing, please try to take it in stride. Because there is no peace of mind like knowing that nobody is going to be hanging a framed 10 x 12-inch portrait of your wife’s feet in his upstairs bathroom.

If you expect Santa Claus to be perfect, sorry. I might accidentally drop a shot glass down your garbage disposal. Sometimes the reindeer get inside and pee all over the floor. The fuckers. But I promise you: I will not draw your feet while you’re dreaming, oblivious to my dark presence at the foot of your bed.

That’s right: If something about feet gets your rocks off, don’t come to me asking for weird-ass favors anymore. As far as I’m concerned, feet are just things you walk on. From now on, I’m strictly in the toy business, sicko.

The general moral decay that started with a few pervy foot sketches had wide-ranging repercussions. So in addition to Santa’s normal duties, I have a probation officer, a bunch of feral reindeer, and threatening letters from creditors.

And have you ever heard of treatment-resistant elf gonorrhea? Don’t get me started.

So please, give me a little grace. This Christmas morning, you might find a couple of beer bottles in the sink. But you can sleep without your socks on during the holidays, because I promise not to draw your feet while you sleep.

Sleep well this Christmas season, no matter how alluring your feet may be.