I just have to scratch this itch that has been on my mind for two months. I simply have to deal with it.
I have often posted about my enjoyment of the craft and art shows I attend on behalf of MrsP. In the run up to Christmas there are lots of them. I had my share of pleasures and nice moments and will do the same next year, no doubt. For some reason this year the same Christmas CD was being piped into many of them. It featured Frank Sinatra being dreary, Bing Crosby groaning and was generally dire.
Perhaps it was the generally dreadful nature of the music on offer that caused me to have what I can only describe as the most unsanta-ish thoughts as Ella Fitzgerald’s turn came round and once more she cheerfully piped:
Santa Claus got stuck in my chimney,
Stuck in my chimney, stuck in my chimney
Santa Claus got stuck in my chimney
When he came last year
But once the idea had entered my head I couldn’t hear the tune without having the same thoughts. I wonder if I can get pills for it, because it's happening again.